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WORKS, 



IN 



VERSE AND PROSE, 

OF THE LATE 

EGBERT TREAT PAIKE, JUN. ESQ. 

WITH JYOTES. 

TO WHICH ARE PREFIXED, 

SKETCHES 

OF HIS 
LIFE, CHARACTER AND WRITINGS. 



Diis sacer est vates, divumque sacerdosj 

Spirat et occultum pectus at ora Jovem. 

Milt: VI. Eleg: - ■* 



BOSTON : 

PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. BELCHER. 
1812. 



^^ 



-9% 






•ISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: 

District Clerk's Office. 

BE it remembered that on the 28th day of October, in the 
thirty seventh year of tlie Independence of the United States of Amer- 
ica, Joshua Belcher, of the said district, has deposited in this 
office the title of a book, the light whereof he claims as proprietor, 
in the words following to wit : 

"The Works, in Verse and Prose, of the late Robert Treat 
Paine, Jun. Esq_ with Notes. To which are prefixed. Sketches of 
his Life, Character and Writings. 

Diis sacer est votes, divicmque sacerdos, 

Spirat et occultiim pectus et ora Jovem. 

Milt : VI. Eleg :" 

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, 
entitled, " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors 
of such copies, during the times therein mentioned ;" and also to an 
act entitled, " An act supplementary to an act, entitled. An act for 
the encouragement of leaning, by securing the copies of maps, charts 
and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the 
times therein mentioned ; and extending the benefits thereof to the 
arts of designing, engi-aving, and etciiing, historical and otlier prints.*' 



-ixTTf T T » »T o oTi *^^7■ ^ Clcvk of the District 
WILLIAM S. SHAW, I of Massachusetts. 



PREFACE. 



It is now somewhat more than eight months since proposals 
were issued for this edition of Mr. Paine's works. This inter- 
val, it is said, is unreasonably long ; and it is sometimes inti- 
mated, in no very equivocal language, that the publication 
has been delayed, till the author and his writings are no 
longer of sufficient interest to retain their share of the gen- 
eral curiosity. 

For this delay, had it been needless, the publick might 
certainly exact an apology. When however the causes, that 
have retarded the press, are recounted, the period of publica- 
tion will not appear to have been wantonly protracted. Of 
these causes, too many and various to be distinctly enumer- 
ated, the principal were, the disorder of Mr. Paine's manu- 
scripts, and the difficulties attending the search for his printed 
essays. The latter of these causes was of much more influ- 
ence than the former. 

The manuscripts required nothing but arrangement and 
selection ; but the printed essays were often to be recovered 
from journals, which, having been long since discontinued, 
were not always remembered. Newspapers and Magazines 
for a series of twenty years were to be consulted. From this 
examination, though far from heedless or desultory, it is not 
improbable that many pieces have escaped. 



VI PREFACE. 

The volume contains nothing, that is not knovi^n to be Mr. 
Paine's, by evidences stronger, if that vi^ere necessary, than even 
the characteristic ks of his peculiar and unborrovired manner; 
except only the verses of an accomplished lady, whom it is 
easy to commend to her full deserts, without forcing her into 
a thankless and unwarrantable comparison with that Lesbian 
enchantress, whose lyre subdues the listener to a deaf and 
dizzy delight, not unlike that, which she herself experienced 
when gazing on her favouiite : 

a-iv cf' a.Koa.1 Fai. 

Beside these two, other causes of obstruction have not 
failed to operate. Every one, who has undertaken to publish 
an Author's remains, will acknov^ledge, that to such an under- 
taking there are incident many obstacles, which, before he 
ventured on the task, he could hardly have imagined possible ; 
to such persons enough has been said ; and those, who do not 
care to become editors, would feel little gratitude for a reca- 
pitulation of the discouragements, under which this collection 
has gradually grown and spread to its present size and form. 

At length the work is abroad ; and it is not without anxiety, 
that Mr. Paine's friends await the decision of the publick. 
The author is, indeed, removed beyond the reach of censure ; 
and the voice of praise, however chaste and sincere, if not lost 
in the bustle of the world, will sigh only in a faint and barren 
echo through the chambers of death. This volume, warmly 
and cordially welcomed, will do much to soothe an afflicted 
family. A proud neglect or a sullen rejection may embitter 
the cup of sorrow with the tears of honest and indignant pride. 

Although the work consists, for the most part, of occasional 
performaiices, yet with local and temporary topicks Mr. Paine 
has not unfrequently connected subjects of general and per- 
manent interest. From his Prize Prologue, may be learnt 
the progress of the scenick art ; and one can hardly open the 
Ruling Passion without encountei'ing something, that may 
enlarge his knowledge, or elevate his virtue, or ennoble his 
patriotism. The Monody on Sir John Moore, though the fate 
and character of that gallant officer might furnish materials 



PREFACE. vii 

for a more elaborate panegyrick, is not destitute of moral instruc- 
tion ; and many of his festal songs are of such an impress, as 
to shew that Mr. Paine was not always content to filter off his 
political opinions from the common sewers, but could, if he 
thought himself bound to such exertion, ascend to the living- 
springs of truth and right. 

Although the Prize Prologue will at once shew itself to be 
considerably improved, yet that poem, even as now printed, 
did not satisfy him, and Mr. Paine was resolved on further 
improvements. He had sketched with great boldness and 
felicity, the characters of the principal writers for the English 
stage. Of these characters, when to each he had assigned 
his proper features, and imparted to all something of that 
enthusiasm, which the mere thought of Shakespeare and his 
successors was seen to kindle in his own bosom, he had deter- 
mined to form a gallery of portraits. It is to be lamented, that 
this determination was forgotten almost as soon as made. Some 
additions are interwoven with the Invention of Letters ; and 
similar emendations were projected for many of his other 
poems. But his latter years were dark and cheerless ; and he 
seems never to have summoned his powers to an attempt, 
which he was not unwilling to contemplate, as feasible only to 
a sound and active health. 

These remarks are not designed to propitiate the stern or 
interest the tender. Neither is it intended by what may follow, 
to defy the austerity of criticism, or to interdict to any bosom 
the indulgence of a generous sympathy. 

The book, such as it is, is now open on its merits to discus- 
sion ; and, while it is not ambitious of a place in the reviews, 
it does not shrink from a strict and impartial scrutiny. Like 
other posthumous works, it will undoubtedly betray many 
venial, and a few almost inexpiable faults. It will also present 
no scanty measure of beauties, some of the softest grace, and 
others of the brightest bloom. The same page that is here 
tarnished with blemishes, which the slightest attention may 
seeni sufficient to have prevented, may there sparkle with 
decorations, such as the happiest fancy in its most propitious 
moments can hardly hope to surpass. 
,2 



vni PREFACE. 

The notes, promised in the proposals, it was originally in^ 
tended to throw into the margin ; but this intention being 
resigned, the Editor's labours will be found at the end of the 
volume. From assigning, as at first proposed, so much of the 
whole commentary to each production, as its worth, whether 
admitted or assumed, might have claimed, the Editor soon 
found it necessary to desist. Had he continued the notes, as 
begun, his pages might have out-numbered the author's. 
Many pieces are, accordingly, dispatched in a single sentence ; 
and some are silently dismissed, not because they do not some- 
times require, and might not always admit explanation, but 
lest productions of higher dignity or deeper interest, might be 
defrauded of their proportion of the commentary. 

Meagre as the notes are, they would have been still more 
meagre, had not a liberal and elegant friendship suggested 
many grounds of comparison and sources of illustration. Thus 
assisted, however, and enabled, beside his own slender stock 
of learning, to command the resources of a rich and vigorous 
mind, the Editor does not presume to think, that his labours 
will afford any light to the only persons, who will pi'obably 
ever inspect the commentary, to the lovers of sound literature 
and the patrons of genuine criticism. 

Lest he should be accused of permitting errors, which he 
had no means of excluding, to obtrude themselves; or applaud- 
ed for accuracy and excellence, from which, as he contributed 
nothing to their production, he is not entitled to any poi'tion of 
praise, it becomes the Editor to declare, that he holds himself 
responsible for the text only, and the notes subjoined to the text. 



CONTENTS. 



SKETCHES of the Life, Character and Writings of the 

late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq. - - page 13 

Monody- on the Death of Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq. 88 

Columbia's Bard, - ^ 89 

Tributary Lines, on the Death of Robert Treat Paine 
Jun, Esq. -.,-.----90 



THE WORKS OF 

ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 

PART I. 

COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Preface, ---------s 

Theme, " An undevout astronomer is mad," - - 7 

Theme, Sacred to the memory of Bowdoin, - - 15 

Theme, "Know then thyself; presume not God to scan," 20 

Theme, "Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto," 26 

Theme, " Humanum est errare," (part of,) - - - 31 
Sensibility, lines on, - - - - - --35 

Pastoral, — Damon and Corydon, - - - - - 4 1 

Forensick Disputation, lines in conclusion of, - - 46 

The Refinement of Manners, an Exhibition Poem, - 47 

Valedictory Poem, on leaving College, - - - 60 

The Nature and Progress of Liberty, A. B. Poem, - 70 

Pastoral,— Morning, Noou and Evening, - - - 77 



'^ CONTfeNTS. 

Reflections on a lonely Hill, which commanded the pros- 
pect of a Burying ground, - - - - - 82 
Lines to Miss ****, _-_«_, 83 

Fragment, 84 

Lines, supposed to belong to the Invention of Letters, 86 

Eclogue, first of Virgil's, translated, - - - 87 

Ode, tenth of second Book of Horace, translated, - - 92 

Ode, fifth of first Book of Horace, translated, - - 93 

Stanzas, on receiving a Frown from Cynthia, - - 94 

Ode, ninth of third Book of Horace, translated, - 96 

Nymph, the laurelled, addressed to Philenia, - - 98 

Ode to Compassion, - - - - - - loi 

Golden Age, translated from Ovid's Metamorphoses, 102 
Lines to Harriot, on a bunch of Roses presented to the 

Author, 104 

Verses to a young Lady, - - - - - 105 

Ode, of Sappho's, translated, ----- 108 

Ode to Winter, - - 109 

Song, the Lass of Eden Grove, - - - - - 1 1 1 



PART II. 

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 

Edwin and Emma, - - - _ - . 115 

Monody, to the Memory of William H. Brown, - - 11 8 

Self Complacency, - - - - - - 12 1 

Stanzas, addressed to Thomas Brattle, Esq. - - 124 

Stanzas, addressed to Miss B. - - - - 125 

Stanzas to Clora, - - - - - - -126 

Sonnet to Eiiza, 128 

Sonnet to Belinda, ----_._ jijid, 

Menander to Philenia, - - - - - - 129 

Philenia to Menander, - 132 

Menander to Philenia, - - - - - . 134 

Sonnet to Philenia,^ -136 

Country Girl to Menander, I37 

Stanzas to the Country Girl, - - - . - 138 




CONTENTS, 

Country Girl to Menander, 139 

Sonnet to the Country Girl, - - - - - 140 

Sonnet to Anna Louisa, - - - - - - 141 

Stanzas to Anna, ------- ibid. 

Stanzas to Truth, 142 

Stanzas to Truth - - - -- - -143 

Stanzas on a Bamboo Fan, 146 

Prize Prologue, at the opening of the Boston Theatre, 151 
The Invention of Letters, A. M. Poem, - - - 163 
The Ruling Passion, O. B. K. Poem, - - - 177 

Notes to Ruling Passion, - - - - - - 192 

Dedicatory Address, at the re-opening of the Boston 

Theatre, 199 

Address, delivered by Master^khn I^ Payne, as Yoving 

Norval, . W .^^.Hym-t^ . . 206 
Epilogue to the Soldier's Daughter, - - - 209 
Valedictory Address, spoken by Miss Fox, at her benefit, 2 1 2 
Epilogue to the Clergyman's Daughter, - - - 214 
Epilogue to the Poor Lodger, - - _ - 222 
Monody on the Death of Lieut. Gen. Sir John Moore, 229 
Notes to Monody, - 237 



PART III. 

ODES AND SONGS. 

Rise Columbia, 243 

Adams and Liberty, ------- 245 

" Bleak lowered the morn ; the howling snow-drift blew," 248 

To Arms, Columbia, 250 

Rule New-England, - - - - - - - 252 

The Street was a Ruin, ------ 254 / 

Spirit of the Vital Flame, - - - - - - 256 

" When first the Mitre's wrath to shun," - - 258 

The Yeomen of Hampshire, - - - - - 261 

" Sweet Minstrel, who to mortal ears," - - - 263 

*' Sainted Shades ! who dared to brave," - - - 265 

The Green Mountain Fai-mer, - - - - 267 




V 



jSkxk.Sr 



xtl CONTENTS. 

" Shall man, stern man, 'gainst Heaven's behest," - 270 

" Wide o'er the wilderness of waves," - - . 272 

" Hail ! Hail, ye patriot spirits," - - _ _ 274 

" Let patriot pride our patriot triumph wake," - 277 

" On the tent-plains of Shinah, Truth's mystical clime," 280 

" Blest be the sacred fire," 283 

" The Steeds of Apollo, in coursing the day," - - 286 

Spain, Commerce, and Freedom, _ _ - - 288 

Elegiac Sonnet, to the Memory of M. M. Hays, Esq. 292 

Address, for the Carriers of the Boston Gazette, - 293 

Lines to Miss F. 296 

Reply to the above, ------ idicL, 

PARTLY. 

PROSE WRITINGS. 

Oration, befoi-e the Young Men of Boston, - - - 301 

Eulogy on the Life of General George Washington, 329 

Comnnunication on the Boston Female Asylum, - - 345 

Critique on the Drama of " Adrian and Orilla," - 353 
Critique on the Comedy of " Rule a Wife and have a 

Wife," 357 

Critique on the Play of « Henry IV." - - - 366 
Critique on the Tragedy of " Venice Preserved," - 370 
Critique on the Tragedy of " Othello," - - 377, 384 
Critique on the Drama of " Pizarro," - - 390, 392 
Critique on Mr. Bernard's performance, and on the Tra- 
gedy of " George Barnwell," - - - - 395 
Critique on the Comedy of " John Bull," - - - 400 
Brief Sketch of Spain, ------ 409 



Notes to the College Exercises, - * - - - 425 
Notes to the Miscellaneous Poems, - - - 445 



h 



fe' 



SKETCHES 



OF THE 



LIFE, CHARACTER AND WRITINGS 



OF THE LATE 



ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 



BY CHARLES PRENTISS. 



" Nothing' extenuate, nor set down auglit in malice.** 



BIOGRAPHY. 

It is not the design of the writer of this memoir, 
nor the wish of the publisher of this volume^ to 
present an ample biography of the late ROBERT 
TREAT PAINE, Jun. Esq. or an elaborate dis- 
ciission on the merits of his poetic effusions. This 
sketch will therefore embrace merely a short ac- 
count of his life and writings, together with a brief 
critical notice of his principal poetic productions. 
In Europe, scarcely a year has of late elapsed, 
which had not been pregnant with rhyming vol- 
umes, born only to see the light and die ; many of 
them swelled with unimportant biographical infor- 
mation, or a prodigality of critical disquisition. 
The labors of the poet, of his biographer and critic, 
are soon forgotten : hence, however barren the 
first, or partial or inadequate the latter, the public 
sustain little injury from such evanescent perform- 
ances. With Mr. Paine and the offspring of his 
muse, it is far otherwise. Although some of his 
writings are hut the moderate efforts of boyhood, 
or the subsequent effects of casual and careless 
exertion ; many of tliem are the legitimate and in- 



%\1 BIOGRAPHY. 

disputable lieirs of immortality. Were it probable 
that this volume would find readers onlj in this 
vicinity, where Mr. Paine's manners, habits, and 
whole tenor of life are known, a biographical sketch 
would be a superfluous task : but, confident as we 
are, that at least, his more labored and polished 
productions will be long and generally read ; it is 
a duty to gratify that curiosity, that anxiety, which 
is ever felt by the reader of taste, to know some- 
thing more of an author, than the place of his na- 
tivity, or the date of his mortal exit. 

The dearest relatives of an author being yet alive, 
and his friends charitably anxious for the mainte- 
nance of his moral as well as poetical reputation, 
to paint the poet as he was is at once a very deli- 
cate, difficult, and disagreeable task. Yet, what- 
ever may be due to the feelings of consanguinity 
or the tenderness of friendship, the commands of 
justice are paramount. 

Should the glowing and exact pencil of Stuart 
be employed in pourtraying the features of an un- 
celebrated maiden, over w hose head more than 
forty annual suns may have rolled, at her instiga- 
tion, and to gratify her vanity, omit many a wrin- 
kle or supply many a deficient rose, few would 
feel disposed to censure the painter. But, were 
he employed to give a portrait of a poet, patriot, 
or hero, whose reputation was familia,r, but whose 
visage was unknown, except to a few, flattery would 



BIOGRAPHY. Xvii 

be falsehood and omission crime. When a faith- 
ful likeness is expected by the public, the pencil 
and the pen owe obedience only to truth. 

Thomas Paine, whose name was aftenvards, 
by an act of the legislature in 1801, changed to 
Robert Treat Paine, was born at Taunton, in 
the county of Bristol, December 9th, 1773. He 
was the second son of the Hon. Robert Treat 
Paine, an eminent lawyer, well known as one of 
the patriots of the American revolution ; one of the 
Delegates in Congress from Massachusetts, his 
native state, who signed the Declaration of Inde-^ 
pendence ; for many years the Attorney General, 
and afterwards one of the Judges of the Supreme 
Judicial Court for this Comnioiiwealth. His moth- 
er's maiflen name was Cobb, a sister of the soldier 
and patriot. General Cobb. Eight adult children 
were the fruit of this union ; four sons and four 
daughters. The three eldest sons, Robert Treat, 
Thomas, and Charles, were educated for the bar. 
Henry was educated in a eomptiug room. Robert, 
in 1798, unmarried, fell a victim to the yellow fever, 
after which Thomas assumed his christian name. 
The younger brothers were both married, and 
Charles died of a consumption early in 1810. The 
parents are now living. 

Our poet was about seven years of age wlien his 
father removed his familv to Boston. 



XVlll BIOGRAPHY. 

I have neither time nor opportunity to enquire, 
whether in his infantile or more juvenile years, he 
exhibited any of those traits of genius or eccen- 
tricity, which the world is generally so desirous 
of finding, or at least of believing must have char- 
acterized infancy, because displayed in riper years. 
He once informed the writer that he was uncon- 
scious of the possession of more than ordinary tal- 
ents, till some of his classmates flattered him with 
a belief of their existence, by praising some of his 
earliest poetical efforts. If a statesman, hero or 
poet, mathematician, painter or musician, acquires 
celebrity, the public are delighted with anecdotes 
of precocious traits of sentiment or action, indica- 
tive of future excellence ; of which no notice was 
taken at the time ; or which had never been con- 
sidered uncommon, without a connexion with sub- 
sequent eminence. 

He was placed under the care of master Carter, 
who for many years kept one of the public schools, 
for instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic, &c. 
Here he made so little proficiency that he was re- 
luctantly received at the Latin school, long kept 
by master Hunt ; he however soon acquired the 
first standing in his class, which he maintained 
until he was offered for the Freshman class at 
Cambridge ; and in July, I788, he was examined 
as such, at that university, and matriculated. 



BIOGRAPHY. XIX 

It is remarkable tliat the last mentioned gentle- 
man^, who prepared him for college, is not possessed 
of a single anecdote which would distinguish him 
from ^^the million." But of his moral qualities, 
during this period, his school mates bear honorable 
testimony. When he had accomplished his ov> n 
task, which he always did with great facility, he 
was ever ready to lend his aid to those who studied 
more tardily, or who had consumed their time in 
play. This benefaction was, in some degree, his 
pastime : as he never engaged in the gymnastic 
sports of the school. His temper was placid and 
his disposition gay, and apparently feeling no supe- 
riority, he was infected with no other ambition, 
than that of acquitting himself to the satisfaction 
of his instructor. 

During the first two years of his collegiate life, 
he was generally attentive to the studies assigned, 
excelling particularly in the Latin and Greek lan- 
guages, in Faiglish grammar and rhetoric : but to 
stated recitations he was not unfrequeiitly inatten- 
tive ; devoting his time, not to idleness nor dis- 
sipation, but to natural philosophy and elegant 
literature. To the Greek language he was very 
attentive, insomuch that the government of college 
assigned to him a Greek oration at one of the exhi- 
bitions of his class. This performance is gener- 
ally nothing more than a recitation from some of 
the orations of Demosthenes or Isocrates, or a speech 



XX BIOGUAPHY. 

from Plutarcli or Xenoplioii ; but Paine chose to 
write liis own in Greek^ witlioiit first preparing in 
English ; which he did mucli to the satisfaction of 
Doctor Willard, at that time President, who was 
considered a very accural c Grreek scholar. The 
manuscript is now in existence. 

One of his classmates, J.Allen, whether from mere 
wantonness, or to gratify some particular resent- 
ment, we know not, wrote several satirical verses, 
abusive of Paine, inscribed on the college wall. 
Discovered by Paine, he was resolved on replica- 
tion ; but, having never written a line of poetry, 
lie was for some time undetermined on the mode. 
Some of his class instigated him to attempt a poet- 
ical retort, by depreciating his talents, and doubt- 
ing his ability to produce a rhyming reply. Allen 
was a young man of a most vigorous mind, and had 
long, and not unsuccessfully, paid his respects to 
the muses. He at that time reigned laureat of the 
class. Paine, however, fearlessly attacketl him in 
return. 

This anecdote the writer had from Mr. Paine 
the last summer, on asking him the occasion of his 
first attempt to rhyme. He could not recollect the 
verses, but believed there was little wit on either 
side, though he was not then dissatisfied with his 
first metrical effort. " Were it not for this circum- 
stance,'^ said he, ^' probably, I should never have 
undertaken a couplet,'' How trivial an incident 



BiOGilAPHY. XXI 

may so affect the lielnij as to give a new direction 
to the whole voyage of life. The falling of a pin 
may decide the fate of an empire. 

Gratified in his first excursion on Parnassian, 
heights, he persevered in his intimacy with the 
nine, till friendship became love ; and he found it 
ever after impracticable to divorce his affections* 
Thus seduced, he became ambitious of showing 
the world how much he was their favorite. He 
saw his own rhymes in print, and his blessed ruin 
was inevitable. Scarcely less pleasure has a young 
author, at the sight of his first printed couplets, 
than a young lover at the moment of contract for 
the approaching hymeneal knot. 

It is the practice at Cambridge for the professor 
of Rhetoric and the English language, commencing 
in the first or second quarter of the student's soph- 
omore year, to give the class a text; generally 
some brief moral quotation from some of the an- 
cient or modern poets, from which the students 
write a short essay, usually denominated a theme^ 
These are examined and corrected by the Profes- 
sor, and a straight line is drawn by him on the 
back of the theme, under the name of the writer. 
Under the names of those, whose themes are of 
more than ordinary correctness or elegance, the 
Professor draws two lines. This distinction, thoygh 
it occasions jealousies and complaints of partiality 
among the students, greatly excites their ambition, 
4 



XXll BIOGRAPHY. 

Many, if not the greater part of Paine's themeSj, 
were written in verse ; and his vanity was gratified, 
and his emulation roused by the honor of constant 
double marks. 

Few, if any of these exercises, however, did 
Paine think proper to publish. And there are 
some, which it is presumed he never would have 
published, or certainly not without further correc- 
tion. Though they give evidence, and contain 
examples of high poetic powers, there are many 
feeble lines, which he would have omitted, or 
amended ; and many inaccuracies, which he would 
have subsequently rectified. 

Can there exist a son, from Adam sprung, 

J-Ioii} abject c'e?- from native dignity, Sec. — page 11. 

And solemn silence bids the mind revere. — p. 15. 

He [nature^ blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand. 
And, unsujipressedf returned the sigh. — p. 20. 

Page SI. Amours is accented on the first syllable. 
The whole poem, however, on the text, 

" Know then thyself ; presmne not God to scan ; 
The proper study of mankind is man ;" 

exemplifies the author's creative powers. 

Where crags xaz-nace — p. 32. 

Till then thy name shall pervagrate the earth,— p. 'iS. 

Page 45, as in many other places, the transi- 
tion is immediate from the familiar to the grave 
style : 



BIOGRAPHY. XXIU 

When with your lyre you swell melodious songs, 
E'en Orpheus owns to thee the wreath belongs. 

Shall court thy smile, and in your praise combine. — p. 46. 

Created life wasybrmifc'/— p. 49. 

Splendid greens, — p. GO. 

Sweet are the hours of life's expandmg years^ — p. 62. 

Swoi-ds turned the scale, and nods edict ed law; — p. 72, 

JPervagrate and edicted, with several otlier 
words, were coined in Mr. Paine's own mint. 
Whether the republic of letters will recognize the 
validity of these acts of jJoetic suvereigntijy time 
must determine. 

Here museful thought and contemfilation dwell, — p. 82. 

Such tautology is, however, very rare with Mr. 
Paine. Yet this is not more censurable than Pope's 
'^'pensive contemplation," which perhaps Paine 
had in view. 

No more, amid the sylvan dance. 

Smiles round the soul-subduing glmice ! — p. 110. 

We have here noticed a few inaccuracies. The 
list might be greatly augmented ; and still it is 
wonderful there are so few. In the exactness of 
his rhymes, he was not then, very scrupulous. Warm 
and horn are grating to the ear : but the eye rather 
than the ear is displeased with lorn and daicn. 

There is no uncommon merit in his translations. 
We are surprised that he should have attempted 
Sapho's ci>AINETAI MOI 'KHNOS, after Phillips. 



XXIV BIOGRAPHY. 

It is not designed to notice the many beauties 
and evidences of ripening excellence, which are 
scattered over his college exercises : we must, 
however, select and refer to a few examples. 

No sooner morn had cheered the skies with light, 

And modest fields blushed from the embrace of nighty — p. 42. 

The first fourteen lines of the Valedictory (p. 60. ) 
are exquisitely beautiful. 

How comprehensive the second line of his 

Address to Freedom : 

Heaven-born goddess, hail ! 

Friend of the pen^ the sickle.^ and the sail .' — p. 70, 

His imitations were not very frequent. The 
following line. 

No fear of death their dauntless so«ls deplore ; — p. 52. 

is but a slight variation from one in Young's Para- 
phrase of Job, describing the war-horse : 

No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays. 

On the whole, although his earlier academic 
productions would not have ensured immortality, 
they contain some sublimity and much vigor and 
beauty, as well as a maturity and copiousness of 
style, uncommon with juvenility^ They are far 
from being models of perfection ; but, to quote 
from his Refinement of Manners, 

Vain is the hope, in life's first dawn, to find 

Those nerves of thought, that grace the ripened mind. 

At the usual quarterly exhibition, in the autumn 

of 1791, the government of college assigned to 



BIOGRAPHY. XXV 

Paine an Englisli poem. There is an unaccount- 
able indolence, or love of delay with respect to 
original composition^ common to many, if not to 
most of those, who are capable of the finest execu- 
tion. He neglected his task day after day, till the 
morning of the exhibition, on which, he wrote and 
committed to memory about a third part of the 
whole. 

Although there was much merit in this poem, 
he did not, by it, acquire much reputation ; merely 
on account of the plaintive monotony of his languid 
delivery : so disposed is a vast majority, even of 
an academic audience, to put their trust in the into- 
nations of emphasis and the gracefulness of gesture. 
Mr. Paine, however, afterwards improved in public 
speaking ; and his elocution became almost perfect. 

The delivery of a poem at an exhibition, in the 
senior year, generally ensures a similar appoint- 
ment at the ensuing commencement. Feeling se- 
cure in this respect, Paine became negligent with 
regard to attendance on public prayers and stated 
recitations ; not wasting his time, but applying 
to such studies and authors as were more con- 
genial to his taste, than some to whicli it was his 
duty, as a student, to have attended. During the 
ensuing quarter, some disturbance having taken 
place between the students of the senior class and 
one or more of the tutors, Paine used some severe 
and abusive language, respecting certain arrange- 



SX\1 BIOGRAPHY. 

ments for the evening commons ; and was sum- 
moned to appear before the government of the uni- 
versity. He defended himself before them with 
so much wit and impudence;, that his offence was 
rather increased than mitigated. He was accord- 
ingly sentenced to a suspension* of four months, 
for neglect of his studies during that quarter ; and 
for insulting the authority of college ; aggravated, 
as his sentence runs, by his indecent and impudent 
attempts, when before the government, to justify 
his misbehavior. 

The then President of the college. Dr. Willard, 
was well known to be a strenuous supporter of 
authority, and rigidly attached to the maintenance 
of his own dignity ; "and opposed'' (as Mr. Paine 
used to say) " to the least perpetration of wit in his 
presence." The slightest disrespect to his office 
was considered as a crime : hence, with all his 
learning and virtues, he was ill calculated to 
restrain by persuasion, or to gain the respect and 
affection of the students, by a deportment, at once 
dignified without haughtiness, and conciliating 
without familiarity. Had he possessed the bland 

* By some strange transposition of terms, that is called" 
suspension, which is merely a rustication, a dismissal to the 
country for some months, when the student is restored to his 
class : and that is called rustication, which suspends him a 
year, allowing him to go where he pleases, and degi'adcs him 
to the class below that in which he had stood. We wish to 
sec the expulsion of this solecism from our university. 



BIOGRAPHY. XXvii 

manners and persuasive autliority of the scholar 
and gentleman, who now presides with such dig- 
nity and usefulness over that seminary, it is possi- 
ble Paine had not been suspended. ^ 

Perhaps, however, his suspension was of no real 
disadvantage. He was placed under the care of 
the Rev. Mr. Sanger, of Bridgewater, where he 
pursued his studies with assiduity, and was after- 
wards regularly reinstated in his class. 

The 21st of every June, till of late years, has 
been the day, on which the members of the senior 
class closed their collegiate studies, and retii-ed, 
to make preparations for the ensuing commence- 
ment. On this day it was usual for one member 
to deliver an oration, and another a poem : such 
members being appointed by their classmates. The 
Yaledictory Poem of Mr. Paine, a tender, correct 
and beautiful effusion of feeling and taste, was re- 
ceived by the audience with applause and tears. 
The latter part of it, especially, was heard with 
silent sorrow and admiration. 

" The fatal sheers the slender thread divide, 
And sculptured virns the mouldering relicks hide ; 
Far deeper wounds our bleeding breasts display, 
And Fate's most deadly weapon is — to-day. 
To-day we part ; ye throbs of anguish, rise, 
Flow, all ye tears, and heave, ye rending sighs ! 
Come lend to Friendship's stifled voice relief. 
And melt the lonely hermitage of grief. 
Sighs, though in vain, may tell the world we feel, 
And tears may soothe the wound, they cannot heal. 



XXVlll UIOGRAPHY. 

To-day we launch from this delightful shore, 

And Mirth shall cheer, and Friendship charm no more; 

We spread the sail o'er life's tumultuous tide ; 

Ambition's helm, let prudent Reason guide ; 

Let grey Experience, with her useful chart, 

t)irect tlie wishes of the youthful heart. 

Where'er kind heaven shall bend our wide career, 

Still let us fan the flame, we've kindled here ; 

Still let our bosoms burn with equal zeal, 

And teach old age the warmth of youth to feel. 

But ere the faithful moment bids us part. 

Rends every nerve, and racks the throbbing heart. 

Let us, while here our fondest prayer ascends, 

Swear on this altar, ' that we will be friends 1' 

But, ah ! behold the fatal moments fly ; 

Time cuts the knot, he never could untie. 

Adieu ! ye scenes, where noblest pleasures dwell ! 

Ye happy seats, ye sacred walls, farewell ! 

Adieu ! ye guides, and thou enlightened sire ; 

A long farewell resounds our plaintive lyre ; 

Adieu ! ye youths, that press our tardy heel ; 

Long may it be, ere you such griefs shall feel I 

Wild horrors swim around my startling view ; 

Fate prompts my tongue, and, oh ! my friends, adieu." 

On the 15th of July, 1792, the day on which he 
received his degree of Bachelor of Arts, he deliv- 
ered, according to the assignment of the govern- 
ment, an English poem. This was at a time when 
all eyes were directed to France, and almost every 
American was ardent in his wishes for the success 
of the French revolution. He chose for his theme 
"The Nature and Progress of Liberty :" a subject 
than which, no one could have been more popular 
and judicious. The general delusion of the time. 



BIOGRAPHY, XXIX 

when the infidel, Paine, was considered the great 
apostle of liberty, and Edmund Burke, the cham- 
pion of despotism, must excuse certain sentiments, 
which no one would sooner condemn at this time, 
than the author, if alive. 

Long may the laurel to the ermine yield, 
The stately palace to the fertile field ; 
The fame of Burke, in dark oblivion rust. 
His pen a meteor — and his page the dust. 

It is not surprising that a young man, like Paine, 
should have partaken of the general madness of 
the day, which, with very few exceptions, then 
swayed the feelings of age, of wisdom, and of 
experience. Mr. Paine, some years after, spoke 
with regret of his " stripling attempt to smite the 
pyramidical fame of Burke." 

He was graduated with the esteem of the govern- 
ment and the^ regard of his cotemporaries. He 
was as much distinguished for the opening virtues? 
of his heart ; as for the vivacity of his wit ; the 
vigor of his imagination ; and the variety of his 
knowledge. A liberality of sentiment and a con- 
tempt of selfishness are usual concomitants ; and 
in him, were striking characteristics. Urbanity 
of manners and a delicacy of feeling imparted a 
charm to his benignant temper and social dispo- 
sition. 

Mr. Paine, soon after leaving college^ determined 
on the pursuit of the mercantile profession : and 



XXX BIOGRAPHY. 

became a clerk to Mr. James Tisdale, a merchant 
in this town of very extensive business. To a man 
of our poet^s genius and disposition^ we should sup- 
pose it impossible that this should not have been 
irksome. He had enjoyed the friendship of the 
Pierian sisters, till the connexion became indis- 
soluble ; ^' and could not leave them, nor return 
from following after them." Hence, he not only 
continued an occasional correspondent of the Mas- 
sachusetts Magazine, in which he had written 
many fine pieces, under the signatures of iEgon 
and Celadon, and in which he now assumed the 
signature of Menander j but even made entries in, 
iiis day book in poetry 5 and once, made out a 
charter-party in the same style. 

Nor was he at all times attentive to the desk 
and the counter. Having been one day sent to 
the bank, with a check for five hundred dollars, 
returning to the store, he was met by several liter- 
ary acquaintances, he jumped into a hackney coach 
with them, went to Cambridge, and spent a week, 
in the enjoyment of ^^ the feast of reason and the 
flow of soul." He, however, did not embezzle the 
money ; but, on his return, carried it untouched to 
the store. 

In the correspondence, about this time, between 
Philenia and our poet, there are certainly some of 
the finest strains of the lyre, and some of the most 
delicate touches of compliment. On each side there 



BIOGRAPHY. Xxxi 

is some proximity to adulation. Pliilenia liad^ 

however^ the most exalted opinion of Paine's poetic 

p^Dwers : and Paine thought he could not say too 

much of a lady, who was so highly celebrated for 

her manners, beauty, colloquial talents, and literary 

attainments ; and who had ascended to such an 

altitude on Parnassus, as to leave all American 

female competitors at a humble distance. 

During the winter of 1792-3, Paine frequently 

visited the theatre, and acquired a predilection 

for theatric amusements, which closely adhered to 

him through life. The law of tliis state against 

theatrical exhibitions, had never been repealed ; 

but a small company of actors had contrived to evade 

it : a temporary theatre was erected in Board Alley, 

" And plays their heathen names forsook. 
And those of ' Moral Lectures' took." 

The law was abrogated ; and in the summer 
and autumn of 1793, a large and elegant brick the- 
atre was erected in Federal Street. 

Previously to the opening of the theatre, the pro- 
prietors offered the reward of a gold medal for the 
best prologue, that should be presented ; appoint- 
ing ;several literary gentlemen ti, examine such as 
should be offered, and to make the adjudication. 

Antecedently to the day assigned for the critical 
scrutiny, not less thaii twenty were presented. 
They were perused by the censors ; but no disa- 
greement of sentiment arose on the question, to 



XXXU BIOGRAPHY. 

whom tlie medal should be awarded. Among the 
competitors, not only those who fancied themselves 
poets, and were inhabitants of this state, but several 
poetical adventurers from other states, contested 
the prize. 

The following vote passed on the subject. 

^^ At a meeting of the Proprietors of the Boston 
Theatre^ December 2d. 1793. 

" Votedy That the Trustees be a committee, in 
behalf of the Proprietors, to thank Mr. Thomas 
Paine for his appropriate and excellent Prologue, 
written for the opening of the theatre, and to present 
him with the Prize Medal adjudged for the same. 
^^ In behalf of the Trustees, 

"PEREZ MORTON, Chairman.'' 

The medal was prepared and presented the ensu- 
ing spring, accompanied with the following letter. 

" Boston, March 2^th, 1794. 
i( SiR^ — ^In the name of the Trustees and Propri- 
etors of the Boston Theatre, I have the pleasure 
to present to you the medal, adjudged to your Pro- 
logue, at the opening of the theatre, as the reward 
of merit and genius. 

" I am. Sir, your most obedient 
'•^ humble servant, 

"PEREZ MORTON.'- 



BIOGRAPHY. XXXIU 

The medal is a circle of about two inclies diam- 
eter, widely and neatly embroidered around the 
periphery, simply containing on one side the words, 

For 

THE PROLOGUE 

at opening of 
the Boston 

THEATRE 

this 

and on the other ; 

PRIZE 

is adjudged 

to 

Thomas Paine, 

by the 

CENSORS. 

This Prologue, as first printed, contained some 
bombast, and several inaccuracies ; yet a greater 
volume of poetic mind has seldom, if ever, been 
embodied in the same compass. In conceiving 
greatly, Mr. Paine sometimes conceived extrava- 
gantly, or obscurely. For instance, as the Pro- 
logue originally stood : 

t ... ... 

But, lo ! where, nsmg m majestick flight, 

The Roman eagle sails the expanse of light ! 

His wings, like Heaven's vast canopy, unfurled. 

Spread their broad plumage o'er the subject world. 

Behold ! he soars, where golden Phoebus rolls, 

And, perching on his car, o'erlooks the poles 1 

Far, as revolves the chariot's radiant way, 

He wafts his empire on the tide of day ; 

From where, if rolls on xjon bright sea of suns s 

To where in Light's remotest ebby it runs. 



XXXiv BIOGRAPHY. 

The writer had occasion to analyze this passage, 
in a familiar manner, in his presence. He agreed 
that it was indefensible, and has since amended 
it ; but it is still extravagant, although supported 
by the authority of an Augnstan poet. 

Extravagant and obscure is he also in the "In- 
vention of Letters." 

Could Faustus live, by gloomy Grave resigned ; 
With povper extensive, as sublime his mind. 
Thy glorious life a volume should compose, 
As Alps immortal, spotless as its snows. 

Had he here closed, all would have been well : 
but to make the volume complete, 

The stars should be its types — its press the age ; 
The earth its binding — and the sky its page. 

The writer asked how he w ould paint Faustus 
picking up the stars for ty]}es, time his press, the 
sky his paper, and afterwards, this volume of the 
s% bound with the em^^A. — *^'^Poh,'^ said he, '^•yoii 
know obscurity is part of the sublime : it went 
down well ; it took — marvellously." 

A more perfect or sublime allegory is not recol- 
lected, than the following, in the "'Prize Prologue," 
portraying the ages of darkness, which succeeded 
the Roman empire : 

Thus set the sun of intellectual light, 
And wrapped in clouds, lowered on the Gothick night. 
Dark gloomed tlie storm— the rushing torrent poured, 
And wide the deep Cimmerian deluge roared; 



BIOGRAPHY. XXXV 

E'en Learning's loftiest hills were covered a'er, 
And seas of dulness rolled, without a shore. 
Yet, ere the surge Parnassus' top o'erflowed, 
The banished Muses fled their blest abode. 
Frail was their ark, the heaven-topped seas to brave, 
The wind their compass, and their helm the wave ; 
No port to cheer them, and no star to guide. 
From clime to clime they roved the billowy tide ; 
At length, by storms and tempests wafted o'er, 
They found an Ararat on Albion's shore. 

He ones said that lie had wriiteii several addi- 
tional lines^ making Apollo swear by Shakespeare^ 
as the rainbow, that there should be no second 
deluge of dramatic dulness : but, fearing he should, 
like Dr. Young, run down the allegory, he forbore 
their retention. 

This Prologue, since its first publication, has 
been much amended, and has received copious ad- 
ditions ; and it was designed to have inserted a 
sketch of the most eminent dramatists. 

A considerable company of Comedians arrived 
from England, and the theatre was opened with 
very flattering success. 

Among the trans-Atlantic performers, were Mr. 
Baker and wife, and an only daughter. Miss Eliza 
Baker, then aged about sixteen; young, hand- 
some, amiable, and intelligent : she was not 
viewed with indifference by Mr. Paine ; and the 
stage had now for him more than the usual attrac- 
tions. His views were, however, governed by 
affection, delicacy, and honour. No man can read 



XXXVl EIOGRAPHV. 

the following nervous lines in his ^^ Ruling Pas- 
sion," written about this time, and suppose they 
could have been otherwise : 

Poor is the trophy of seductive Art, 

Which, but to triumph, subjugates the heart; 

Or, Tarquin-like, with more licentious flame, 

Stains manly truth to plunder female fame. 

Life's deepest penance never can atone, 

For Hope deluded, or for Virtue flown. 

Yet such there are, whose smooth, perfidious smile 

Might cheat the tempting crocodile in guile. 

Thorns be their pillow ; agony their sleep ; 

Nor e'en the mercy given, to " wake and weep !" 

May screaming night-fiends, hot in recreant gore, 

Riv^ their stramed fibres to their heart's rank core. 

Till startled conscience heap, in wild dismay, 

Convulsive curses on the source of day ! 

During the theatrical season of 1793-4;, the 
Drama was the principal subject of Paine's amuse- 
ment and attention, and he spent much time in 
writing theatrical criticisms. His mercantile busi- 
ness became irksome, and his mercantile ambition 
was gone. Hence, in the ensuing summer, he parted 
from Mr. Tisdale, by whom he had ever been 
treated with kindness, and of whom he ever spake 
with respect and commendation. 

The qualities, which had secured him esteem, at 
the university, were daily expanding, and his rep- 
utation was daily increasing. His society was 
eagerly sought in the most polished and refined 
circles ; he administered compliments with great 
address ; and no beau was ever a greater favorite 



BIOGRAPHYi XXXVli 

in the heaii monde ! His apparel was now iu tlie 
extreme of fashion ^ altLougli at some subsequent 
periods,, when his fortunes were less propitious^ 
he indulged in a truly poetical negligence of attire* 

Shortly after his separation from the counting; 
house, he issued proposals for publishing a semi- 
Weekly newspaper, in the town of Boston, His 
literary reputation was h^gh, and it was expected 
that his publication, while it should adhere to the 
gospel politics of federalism, would teem with the 
effusions of fancy and of taste* The subscription 
for this paper was liberal ; and it commenced on 
the 20th of October, 1794<, under the title of ^^ The 
Federal Orrery;" with the motto, from Virgil, 
i^ Solemque suum, sua sidera, norunt." 

Public expectation was, however, not a little 
disappointed. Love, the theatre, natural indolence, 
and constant temptations to pleasure and amuse- 
ment, stole away his hours ; and even the little 
attention he paid to his paper, seemed a drudgery. 

There are, however, some circumstances con- 
nected with the publication of this Journal, which 
deserve notice. In the fore part of the year 179^^ 
he inserted, in numbers, in the Orrery, "The Jac- 
obiniad," a political poem. This poem is model- 
led upon " The HoUiad," if not copied from it. 
Mr. Paine new-pointed and neW' -edged much of 
the satire ; and the leaders of the jacobin faction, 
were sorely galled by this battery of ridicule. This 
6 



XXXVlll BIOGRAPHY. 

drew upon him tlie summary vengeance of a mob, 
who attacked the house of Major Wallach, with 
whom he lodged, who gallantly defended his castle 
against the fury of the unprincipled banditti, and 
compelled them to retire. But another circum- 
stance, attached to this publication, had a more 
important bearing upon our author. The son of a 
gentleman, at whom the shafts of wit had been 
aimed, called upon the editor for personal satisfac- 
tion, which was denied. Mr, Paine apprehended 
an assault, and prepared himself, with an unloaded 
pistol, which he vainly imagined would appal his 
adversary. The parties accidentally met. Upon 
the approach of his assailant, whose overpowering 
force Mr. Paine could not resist, he presented his 
pistol ; but the gentleman fearlessly rushed for- 
ward and violently assaulted him. Mr. Paine, 
who had little muscular power, and whose nerves 
had never been previously tested, considered this 
disasterous interview as the most fatal incident of 
his life. So capricious is popular opinion, when 
uncankered by party, that it denounces, for not 
doing, what it would condemn, if done. So en- 
venomed is party, that it applauds in one, what it 
reprobates in another. So distorted are its decis- 
ions, that it perpetually illustrates the absurdity 
of the justice and farmer, as exemplified in tlie 
fable. A few months never eiFected a greater 
change in the acquaintance and friends : in the 



BIOGRAPHY, XXXIX 

lia|)its and prospects of au individual, who had 
transgressed no law, human or divine. It was his 
misfortune, that in this exigence, he had neither 
stubbornness of pride to resist the blow ; nor elas- 
ticity of character to recover from the shock. 

In February, 1795, he was married to Miss 
Baker. Whether any or what objections were 
made to this match by his relations, other than his 
father, we have not learned. His father, under- 
standing what were his intentions, threatened to 
renounce him, should he marry the lady. The 
father's threat had no effect on the son : at least, 
however unwilling he might be to offend a parent, 
his honor, his affection, and independence of mind, 
forbade compliance with the authority of what he 
considered mere parental pride. 

The nuptial hour was the signal of expulsion 
from his father's house ; but the hospitality of 
Major Wallach, sheltered him and Mrs. Paine 
from paternal persecution. Fifteen months they 
remained inmates in this gentleman's family ; and 
although Mr. Paine tendered a liberal remunera- 
tion, Major Wallach never would receive but one 
hundred dollars ! Whenever he recurred to this 
beneficent act, the tear of gratitude could not be 
suppressed. Mr. Paine once said, ^^ When I lost 
a father, I gained a wife and found a friend." 

This alienation continued until the decease of 
the eldest bvother, in 179a. This distressing oe< 



Xl BIOGRAPHY. 

curreiice produced a reconciliation^ wMeli^ proba- 
bly from too little confidence on one hand, and an 
insufficient degree of respect on the other; was of 
no cordial duration. Whether the austerity of the 
father occasioned the incorrigible obliquities of the 
son ; or whether the anomalies of the son provoked 
the untempered severity of the father ; or whether 
they alternately operated upon each other as cause 
and effect, the writer cannot ascertain ; nor is it 
his duty to decide. The registry of events is the 
only duty of the biographer. 

In July, 1795; Mr. Paine took his second degree, 
at Cambridge. The government assigned to him 
the delivery of an English poem. To the writer 
of this imperfect sketch of his life, then about to 
take his first degree, had also been assigned an 
English poem. A little after sunrise, on the morn- 
ing of Commencement, we went into the meeting- 
house and rehearsed our poems to the empty pews, 
President Willard had struck out ten lines of 
Paine's poem : beginning, 

Envy, that fiend, who haunts the great and good. 
Not Cato shunned, nor Hercules subdued. 
On Fame's wide field, where'er a covert lies. 
The rustling serpent to the thicket flies ; 
The foe of Glory, Merit is her prey ; 
The dunce she leaves, to plod his drowsy way, 
Of birth amphibious, and of Protean skill, 
This green-eyed monster changes shape at will ; 
Like snakes of smaller breed, she sheds her skin j 
Strips off the ser/zf«if, and turns; — ■JAC0BT^^ 



BIOGRAPHY, Xli 

In the writer's poem, lie had also erased a pas- 
sage of the same political import. Notwithstand- 
ing the erasure, we agreed to pronounce what we 
had written ; an impudeat and unjustifiable deter- 
mination. The writer's poem belonged to the 
forenoon, Mr. Paine's to the afternoon exercises. 

The annual collegiate dinner being finished in 
the hall, after the morning exercises, the writer 
was ordered, by the President, to appear in the 
Philosophy chamber, to answer for his disobedi- 
ence. After a short lecture, not unaccompanied 
with threats of being denied a degree, he was sent 
to find Paine ; the object being, strictly to for- 
bid his delivery of the lines erased. The writer 
did not take much trouble to find him, and returned 
without success. The Librarian was then dis- 
patched on the same errand, who went down to 
the hall of commons, where he knew Paine was not; 
and after staying a few minutes, returned also, 
unsuccessfuly. Another messenger was despatched, 
who found Paine in the meeting-house, seatetl by 
the stage, and ready to perform : the house being 
crouded, and the time having arrived for the after- 
noon exercises. He was told to appear before the 
corporation of the college. " Grive my compliments 
to them," said Paine, " and tell them I will not 
come." -It was not known whether this answer 
was reported — probably not ; as the procession 
was formed, and ready to move. 



xlii BIOGRAPHY. 

Mr. Paine's poem was received with very great 
applause. Wiien the erased lines were spoken^, a 
little hissing was lieard^ which was soon drowned 
by repeated, loud rounds of approbation. 

We were both doubtful whether our degrees 
would be conferred. Not being under the imme- 
diate government of the college, Paine, as a citi- 
zen, conceived he had a right to utter the lines 5 
and was quite indifferent whether a degree was 
conferred or not. The degrees, however, were 
conferred. The President had no objection to the 
verses, other than what arose from an unwilling- 
ness to have Grovernor Adams, who was present, 
and perhaps a few others, believe he had sanc- 
tioned them. 

^'^ The Invention of Letters" was immediately 
printed, and passed through two large editions, in 
a very short time. It was inscribed to General 
Washington ; to whom a copy was transmitted by 
the author, who received a highly complementary 
letter from that great man, which, from some casr 
ualty, cannot at pi'esent be found. 

It has been observed, that to his newspaper he 
paid little attention. During the autumn of 1795, 
and the Avinter of 1796, he was so much devoted 
to the theatre ; to company, (especially literary,) 
and to the general amusements of the town, that 
no one would have suspected his being the editor 
of the Orrery, but from seeing his name, as such^ 



BIOGRAPHY. Xliii 

«,t the head of the first page. In April, 1796, he 
sold the establishment, after having lost and been 
defrauded of several thousand dollars, by entrust- 
ing its concerns to others. Previous to his disposing 
of his paper, he received the appointment of ^^ Mas- 
ter of Ceremonies'' in the theatre, vi^ith a salary 
sufficient for a comfortable support. The greater 
part of his time, however, being at his own dispo- 
sal, though his inquisitive and excursive mind was 
ever on the aleri, and he was constantly adding to 
his stock of knowledge : not moving in those higher 
circles, which ought to have rejoiced in the honour 
and pleasure of his company ; but who fastidiously 
considered as a degradation, his marriage with au 
actress, (though, subsequently, Mrs. Paine never 
appeared on the boards;) he sometimes associated 
with those, whose fellowship neither strengthened 
his virtues, increased his happiness, or enhanced 
his credit. He resorted much to the house of hi^ 
father-in-law, who, at that time, kept a hotels 
where, frequently yielding to improper hours and 
indulgences, he began to confirm injurious habits. 
His offences against temperance, though seldom 
excessive, from repetition, acquired strength, and 
became the necessary order of the day. 

Oenius knows its own worth and feels its own 

dignitjr. Titled folly and wealth}^ impotence^ 

measure men, not by their minds, but by their 

height ; not by their merit, but by their altitude in 

7 



Xliv BIOGRAPHY. 

society. Paiue felt the neglect of liis inferiors^ 
who moved in a higher orbit. A soul like his, is 
ever active in literary commerce ; ever ready to 
communicate and receive ; and, by constant barter 
and exchange of intellectual stores, ever anxious 
to add to the capital stock. A supercilious pride 
had, at least, partially excluded him from higher 
society, and compelled bim to intercourses, not 
always the most reputable or useful. 

Mr. Paine was appointed, by the " Phi Beta 
Kappa Society^' of Harvard University, to deliver 
a poem on their anniversary, July 20th, 1797. 
This is the longest and most perfect of all his 
poetical productions. We know of no satire, of 
Horace or Juvenal, Boileau or Pope, that surpasses 
it. It was his intention to make some alterations 
and additions to this poem ; but he was prevented, 
by his constitutional aptitude to delay till to-mor^ 
row, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. 

He considered the " Ruling Passion'' as a 
gallery of portraits, which he intended, at a future 
time, to improve and amplify. The comparison 
of different characters with different brutes, is the 
most perfect and condensed. The description of 
the fop, the pedant, the frail beauty, the old maid, 
and the miser, have, perhaps, never been equalled. 
The apostrophe to poetry is written in the sublimest 
strain of poetry and pathos. Fearing it might be 
his own 



BiOGKAPHY. xIy 

.«' Horrid Fate ! the living Muse to see, 

Bound to the mouldering corpse of Penury;" 

about two years after writing this poem, lie bade 
farewell to the muses ; and for eighteen or twenty 
months, entirely neglected his first love. Aflec- 
tion and association, however, returned, the Indian 
way was forsaken for the Appian ; and, during 
most of his life, from his poetical Pisgah, he with 
sorrow perceived, that 

" The Canaan, he must ne'er possess, was gold." 

When it is considered, for how small sums many 
of the finest minor poems have been originally 
sold to British booksellers, the reader will be sur- 
prised to learn how liberally the effusions of Mr. 
Paine have been patronised in this country. For 
his ^^ Invention of Letters,^' he received fifteen 
hundred dollars, exclusive of expense ; and twelve 
hundred dollars profit, by the sale of his ^^ Ruling 
Passion.^' 

In June, 1798, at the request of the ^^Massachu- 
setts Charitable Fire Society,'' Mr. Paine wrote 
his celebrated political song of ^"^ Adams and Lib- 
erty." It may appear singular, that politics should 
have any connexion with an institution of benevo- 
lence : but the great object of the anniversary being 
to obtain charitable donations, the more various 
and splendid were the attractions, the more crowded 
the attendance ; and of course, the more ample the 
accumulation for cjiarity. 



Xlvi BIOGRAPHY, 

There was, probably, never a political song morc^ 
sung in America, than this ; and one of more poet- 
ical merit was, perhaps, never written : an anec- 
dote deserves notice, respecting one of the best 
stanzas in it. Mr. Paine had Avritten all he intended ; 
and being in the house of Major Russell, the editor 
of the Centinel, showed him the verses. It was 
highly approved, but pronounced imperfect ; as 
Washington was omitted. The sideboard was 
replenished, and Paine was about to help himself ; 
when Major Russell familiarly interfered, and 
insisted, in his humourous manner, that he should 
not slake his thirst, till he had written an additional 
stanza, in which Washington should be introduced. 
Paine marched back and forth a few minutes, and 
suddenly starting, called for a pen. He immedi- 
ately wrote the following sublime stanza, afterwards 
making one or two trivial verbal amendments : 

Should the Tempest of War overshadow our land, 

Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder ; 
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand ; 
And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the thunder ! 
His sword, from the sleep 
Of its scabbard would leap, 
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep [ 
For ne'er shall the sons, Sec. 

The sale of this song yielded him a profit of 
about seven hundred and fifty dollars. It was 
read by all ; and there was scarcely, in New Eng- 
land, a singer, that could not sing this song. Nor 



BIOGRAPHY. Xlvii 

was its circulation confined to ISTew England : it 
was sung at theatres, and on public and private 
occasions, throughout the United States ; and re- 
published and applauded in Great Britain. 

The theatre having been destroyed by fire, in 
February, 1708 ; in the autumn of this year, it was 
rebuilt and enlarged. Paine engaged to write a 
Dedicatory Address, to be spoken by Mr. Hodg- 
kinson, then manager, when the theatre should be 
again opened ; of which, due notice was given in 
the pubhc papers. The theatre was to be opened 
on Monday, October 29th. Multa agendo nihil 
agens was certainly his business during theatrical 
vacations, and he neglected his Prologue till 
Sunday, the day before its intended delivery : on 
which day, between two and three o'clock, some 
literary acquaintance having dined, and being tlien 
present vi^ith him, Mr. Hodgkinson entered in a 
rage, and immediately began to upbraid him for 
his negligence. The public had been informed 
that a Prologue was to be spoken by the manager, 
not a word of which was yet written : he begged 
Paine to write something, however short or indif- 
ferent, that the theatrical campaign might not com- 
mence with a broken promise. " Pray do not be 
angry, Hodgkinson," said Paine ; ^^ sit down, and 
take a glass of wine.'' ^^No sir," said Hodgkin- 
son, ^^ when you begin to write, I will begin to 
drink." — He immediately took his pen, at a side 



Xlviii BIOGRAPHir. 

table, and began to write. At half past eight, he 
completed the whole of it, as it now stands, ex- 
cepting the last sixteen lines, relative to Adams, 
which were added the next day, as a compliment 
to President Adams : it having been repeated on 
Tuesday evening, an extra play night, commemo- 
rating his birth day, at wiiich he was present. This 
Address contains many fine lines, and the political 
satire is of the highest stamp. The treatment of 
the American ministers, by Talleyrand and his 
agents ; the assumption of a threatening aspect ; 
and afterwards, menaces having failed, his concil- 
iatory deportment, are most severely satirized. 

As some old Bawd, who all her life hath been 
A fungus, sprouting from the filth of sin ; 
Whose dry trunk seasons in the frost of Vice ; 
Xiike radish, saved from rotting by the ice ; 
When threatening bailiffs first her conscience awe, 
Not with the fear of shame, but fear of law. 
Sets out at sixty, in contrition's search, 
' Rubs garlick on her eyes, and goes to church I 
Thus Europe's courtezan, well versed in wiles, 
Whose kisses poison, while the harlot smiles, 
With pious sorrow hears our cannon roar, 
And swears devoutly, that she'll sin no more ! 

Mr. Paine continued in his theatrical office, 
during this season. In February, 1799, he had, 
as he had been accustomed to have several seasons 
before, a very profitable benefit. 

The treaty between this country and France, 
made in 1778, was abrogated by Congress, July 



BIOGRAPHY. Xlix 

^th, 1798 ; a year after which, the young men of 
Boston determined to celebrate the anniversary. 
It was not^ however, resolved, till after the 7th of 
July; and Wednesday, the 17th, was fixed for the 
day. Application was made to Mr. Paine, to de- 
liver an Oration on the occasion, the Saturday 
evening preceding the 17th. 

Short as was the time for preparation, the glow 
of feeling, the swell of language, and the brilliancy 
of sentiments, suitable to an address of such a 
nature, have very seldom been surpassed. It was 
delivered at seven o'clock, on the morning previous 
to Commencement at Cambridge, to an audience, 
crowded to almost the utmost pressure of possi- 
bility ; and was received with rapturous and en- 
thusiastic applause. » 

A copy of this Address was forwarded to Gren- 
eral Washington, and another to Mr. Adams, then 
President of the United States ; accompanied with 
a letter to each, copies of which were not retained. 

From General Washington, he received the fol- 
lowing answer. 

" Moiiwt Vernon, September Isf, 1799. 

'^^ Sir, — I have duly received your letter, of the 
12th of August, together with the Oration delivered 
by you, in Boston, on the 17th of July. . 

^"^ I thank you for the very flattering sentiments 
which you have expressed in your letter, respect- 



1 BIOGRAPHY. 

ing myself, and I consider your sending me youf 
Oration, as a mark of polite attention, which de- 
mands my best acknowledgements ; and I pray 
you will be assured, that I am never more gratified J 

than when I see the effusions of genius from some 
of the rising generation, which promises to secure 
our national rank in the literary world ; as I trust 
their firm, manly, and patriotic conduct will ever 
maintain it, with dignity, in the political. 
" I am, Sir, very respectfully, 

^^ Your most obedient servant, 

" GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
" Mr. Thomas Paine.'' 



From Mr. Adams, the following was received- 
^^ Quincy, August Mh, 1799- 

''' Sir, — I have received, with great pleasure, 
your very handsome letter of the S7th of July, 
enclosed with a copy of your Oration, delivered at 
Boston, on the 17th of last month. This Oration 
is another effort of a pregnant and prolific genius, 
which had before exhibited many elegant, learned, 
and masterly productions, to the delight of our 
Americans, and the applause of all men of taste 
and sentiment, in other countries. 

" The young men of Boston do honour to their 
education, their parents, and their country ; and, | 

in the celebration of that day, were excited by the 
purest motives, and governed by the best principles. 



BIOGRAPHiT. ii 

" I thank you, Sir, for your civilities to me upon 
tliis, and many former occasions ; and should be 
happy to have a more particular acquaintance with 
you. Quiney is a short, pleasant, and salubrious 
excursion from Boston; and here I should be much 
obliged with a visit from Mr. Paine, to spend 
some time with us. 

'^ I am. Sir, with high esteem for 

your talents and character, your most 
obedient and most humble servant, 

"JOHN ADAMS. 

" M.R. Thomas Paine.'' 

The friends of Mr. Paine, he having improved 
in his habits, were very numerous. Many respect- 
able gentlemen, who admired his talents, were 
solicitous that they should be employed, more for 
his own emolument, his reputation, and the repu- 
tation of the country, than for several years they 
had been, on account of his attachment to the the- 
atre ; and urged him to the pursuit of a regular 
profession ; and offered' him pecuniary assistance, 
on condition of his entering upon the study of the 
law. 

To these proposals he listened ; dissolved his 
connexion with the theatre ; and moving his fam- 
ily to Newburyport, entered his name as student 
at law, in the office of Theophilus Parsons, Esq. 
at present Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of 
8 



lii BIOGRAPHY. 

this state ; who cheerfully received him as such, 
refusing to accept the customary fee for tuition. 

Mr. Paine always alleged, notwithstanding the 
friendly assurances of pecuniary assistance, which 
had been promised, that he never received any 
such aid as was expected. But since his decease 
we have been informed, upon enquiry, that Mr. 
Abraham Touro endorsed some small notes at the 
bank, which were paid by him, without recurrence 
to the drawer. Probably Mr. Paine considered 
this as a debt i, although we have no doubt that 
Mr. Touro intended it as a gratuity. 

Mr. Paine was now happily fixed in the office 
of the first law character in the country ; of a gen- 
tleman, not less distinguished by his literary attain- 
ments, and giant intellect, than by his benevolence, 
urbanity, and all the virtues that distinguish the 
great and good ; and he applied his mind, with 
intlefatigable assiduity, to his legal studies. 

The sale of his Oration, and the profits of his 
benefit at the theatre, had enabled him to discharge 
all his little debts, leaving a surplus for his mainte- 
nance for some months. When this was expended, 
by loans, and by literary assistance to the New- 
buryport booksellers, he was enabled to support 
himself, at least comfortably, while he remained 
in that town, which was about a year. 

General Washington died on the 14th of Decem- 
ber, 1799. On the 2d of January, 1800, at the 



BIOGRAPHY. liii 

request of the town of Newburyport, Mr. Paine 
delivered a Eulogy on his life. It was a splendid 
and powerful exhibition of oratory ; it was received 
with the highest approbation ; published and re- 
published in the English language ; and, it is said, 
was translated as widely as the name of Washing- 
ton was known. 

In August, 1800, Mr. Parsons having removed 
to Boston, Mr. Paine and his family returned. 

He continued industriously attentive to his 
studies and regular in his habits. He had for more 
than a year bade adieu to poetry : but in Decem- 
ber, he was persuaded to write an Ode for tlie 
^^ Festival of the Sons of the Pilgrims," the anni- 
versary, celebrating the landing of the forefathers 
of New England, at Plymouth. He did not, how- 
ever, abandon himself to poetry ; but wrote merely 
a few short pieces, till July, 180S, when he was 
regularly admitted a practitioner of law, in the 
Court of Common Pleas, in the county of Suffolk. 
Previously to his admission, he had frequently 
argued causes before magistrates and referees ; 
and had given his friends the highest hopes of 
future excellence. As soon as he opened his office, 
he received an uncommon share of patronage. 
Perhaps no young attorney in the tov/n was ever 
so suddenly and so fully crowded with business, 
to which he w^as assiduously attentive. His talents 
for business were remarkable, and every exhibition 



liv BIOGRAPHY. 

in court was an " earnest of success." Though 
he attended the theatre^ and partook of the amuse- 
ment of a social whist club, at Concert Hall ; he 
neglected not his duty to his clients, for the pleas- 
ures of the drama : and at the club, his bets were 
moderate and his play judicious. He was never 
intemperate ; and his retirement was seasonable. 

Till the autumn of 1803, Mr. Paine had been 
diligent in his profession, was accumulating prop- 
erty, and increasing in reputation. After the com- 
mencement of the theatrical season, he gradually 
neglected his office, and became more and more 
attached, not merely to dramatic amusements, but 
to familiar intercourse with the performers. 

Some favourite, in the green-room, for distant 
admiration, or more familiar intimacy, seemed 
always essential to his felicity. Mrs. Jones, as a 
singer and performer, was now at the zenith of her 
reputation upon the Boston boards. This er'ratic 
Veniis crossed his orbit and attracted him from his 
course. When passing the isle of the Syrens, he 
could not, like Ulysses, close his ears. Fortius 
utere loris, was a maxim, of which, the appetites 
and passions of his advanced years prohibited the 
adoption. The prospective scenes of his life were, 
at this time, alluringly gilded ; but no sense of 
cluty, no desire of usefulness, no ambition of 
renown, could reinspire his inveterate inaction. 



BIOGRAPHY. IV 

His clients were neglected ; suits, in wliicli lie, 
had been engaged, were left to the care of others ; 
his old patrons forsook him ; and his known inat- 
tention to his profession, prevented the application 
of new ; until, in the course of two years, his office 
was forsaken almost entirely by himself and his 
employers. The reasoning, chiding, and urging 
of friends, and the expostulation of his father, were 
ineffectual. His friendship for Bacchus became 
constant, though seldom excessive. Gentlemen of 
the bar assisted him gratuitously in the prosecu- 
tion and termination of suits, which he had com- 
menced; but many of his clients were unavoidably 
losers by his neglect of their causes. 

His name was not taken from his ofRce door till 
the year 1809 ; but, for several years previous, he 
scarcely paid the least attention to business ; neg- 
lecting even his own claims, as well as the concerns 
of others. During these years, till the day of his 
death, scarcely was ever poet more completely under 
the despotism of abject poverty and disease. Along 
and severe fit of sickness, in 1805, had shattered 
his constitution, and he seemed iadiiFerent to that 
temperance and care, by which alone, if at all, his 
health might have been re-established. 

In the spring of the year 1807, he took a house 
in Dorchester, where his family resided till within 
a few months before his death. Tlie distance 
from town being about three miles, his time was 



Ivi BIOGRAPHY. 

divided between Dorchester and Boston. He 
had abandoned the law, and seemed determined 
never to resume the profession ; but fed his hopes 
with daily resolves on the prosecution of some lit- 
erary employment, which might add to his repu- 
tation, and afford him the means of subsistence. 
At one time, he determined to publish a commercial 
paper ; at another, he proposed writing a new and 
complete system of Rhetoric. He determined to 
fill the pantomine of Blackbeard, and made great 
progress in it. He digested in his mind the princi- 
pal scenes ; when, a few pages being misplaced, he 
was so disconcerted, that he never resumed it. He 
had projected another play, of a higher order, and 
had filled some of the most important scenes. The 
plot was imaginary, and the action was thrown 
back some centuries. The principal scene was 
laid in the Appenines, which afforded full scope 
for picturesque scenery. 

A Spanish prince, endued with all the virtues 
of a chivalrous age, became enamoured of a lady, 
inferiour in rank, but worthy of his affection. 

Love led by Honour at her shrine adored. 

The unrelenting vengeance of his father, not 
only discarded him as a successour, and exiled him 
from his dominions ; but offered rewards and hon- 
ours to the assassin, who should exhibit his head 
in the palace. In this extremity, the exile fled to 



BIOGRAPHY. Ivii 

the mountains, and casually fell into the hands of 
a Moorish prince, his mortal enemy, whom the 
disasterous chances of war had compelled to seek 
the same solitary refuge. His education and hab- 
its, the rights of war, and the mandates of his 
religion, demanded the life of his prisoner. But 
Saracen humanity triumphed over the dictates 
of duty. Succours arrived from Africa, and the 
Moor descended from the mountain to join his 
forces and give battle to the Christians. The for- 
tune of the day turned in his favour, and the father 
and future bride of his caverned guest became his 
prisoners. The sequestered prince was invited 
from his retreat, and the lovers were happily united. 
The Moor, without intercession, offered to restore 
to the inexorable father his sceptre, if he would 
endure the connubial happiness of his son, and rein- 
state him in his political rights. The offer was 
accepted ; and the Saracen crowned the prince and 
hero with the radiance of moral glory. Humanity 
saved his enemy ; his enemy became his friend ; 
and the divine impulses of friendship induced him 
to forego the rights of a conqueror ! 

The labour of Invention was over; and the little, 
that remained to be done, was to adjust the scenes 
and prepare the dialogue for the subalterns of the 
piece ; but this little was never accomplished. 

In the winter of 1808, he issued proposals for 
publishing his poetical works. In a short time, he 



Iviii BIOGRAPUV. 

persevered so far, as to attend to the correction of 
thirty or forty pages : but neither the desire of 
escaping from the pinching penury, by which, he 
was tormented ; nor a due regard to his prom- 
ises, and reputation, could rouse him from his 
habitual indolence. "Shortly, in a little while, 
in a few months,'^ were his regular responses to 
those, who requested information when his works 
would appear : but no further progress was made 
in their accomplishment. 

At the request of the merchants, who gave a din- 
ner, in 1809, in honour of the " Spanish Patriots," 
Mr. Paine wrote an Ode. About the same time, 
he wrote a compendium of the history of that chiv- 
alrous and gallant people, and published them in 
a pamphlet. Both were translated into the Spanish 
language, to the great emolument of the Spanish 
bookseller. The Ode was criticised in his pres- 
ence, and he, laughingly, replied, "It is a commer- 
cial Ode for a Spanish market. In the manufacture, 
I regarded more the gaudiness of the colours, than 
the texture of the fabric." 

In the year 1809, at the request of Mrs. Stanley, 
an actress of some celebrity, who had been on the 
Boston boards, and with whom Paine was inti- 
mately acquainted, he wrote " A Monody on the 
death of Sir John Moore." Mrs. Stanley wa« 
then in Quebec, where, it is said, she recited the 
Monody repeatedly, to overflowing houses, and 



BIOGRAPHY. liX 

with the highest commendation from the Quebec 
audience. This Monody, afier making some addi- 
tions, he published in Boston^ in the summer of 
1811 ; but he was mortified and disappointed in 
the limited sale of the poem. 

During the theatrical season of 1810-11, two 
original plays were repeatedly acted on the Bos- 
ton stage, written by William C. White, Esq. to 
each of these, Mr. Paine wrote a long Epilogue. 
Whatever might be the merit of the plays, i\it 
Epilogues Avere of sufficient attraction to secure 
a respectable audience. Hundreds of dollars he 
had frecjuently received from the sale of a poem 
of one or two hundred lines, and he had no reason 
to doubt a similar success, from a similar exertion, 
at any time ; yet to such exertion, for his own ad- 
vantage, he could not be incited ; though, from 
pure benevolence, and a wish to encourage Amer- 
ican literature, he wrote, for a small gratuity, an 
Epilogue of above two hundred lines ! 

In 1811, he had a benefit, by the indulgence of 
Messrs. Powell and Dickenson, the Boston man- 
agers, which yielded him, although the weather 
was inclement, two hundred dollars. 

During these last years of his life, without a 
library, wandering from place to place, frequently 
uncertain where, or whether he could procure 
a meal ; his thirst and acquisition of knowl- 
edge astonishingly increased. Though frequently 
9 



Ix BIOGRAPliy. 

tormented with disease, and beset by duns and 
^^ the law's staff' officers," from whom, and from 
prison, he was frequently relieved by friendship ; 
neither sickness nor penury abated his love of a 
book, and of instructive conversation. 

He was several times confined by sickness for 
several weeks, during which, his spirits sometimes 
forsook him ; but no sooner was he enabled to go 
abroad, than hopes and spirits alTected him with 
all their juvenile ardour ; and plans for future life 
were alternately projected and abandoned, and 
new ones conceived and rejected. 

Having long been on terms of the most intimate 
friendship with him, and not having seen him, 
for upwards of three years ; the writer was ex- 
tremely gratified in being able to spend a few days 
with him, the last August. Finding his libations 
to Bacchus were copious and constant, the liberty 
was assumed of expostulating Mith him, with all 
possible delicacy ; but in such firm terms, as the 
sincerity and interest of deep affection, might 
justify. He listened, at first, with patience, and 
without offence. He attempted to justify himself, 
from the necessity of the case. Buch, he said, 
\YRS then the situation of his constitution, that a 
s;reat quantity of stimulants w ere not only harm- 
less, but absolutely necessary. The writer urged, 
(informing him, in some degree, liaud inexpertus 
loqiior,) that the habit of using such stimulants 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixi 

might be forsaken abruptly, witli probable safety ; 
but gradually, with certain success ; afier which, 
the desire, or seeming necessity of their use, would 
never return. ]S^eglected, as he supposed himself, 
by friends, injured as was his reputation, empty 
as were his coffers ; he was assured of the return 
ol friendship, the reparation of character, and cer- 
tainty of emolument, on the first well-grounded 
assurance of reformation. More than all other con- 
siderations, the endeavour was made to reanimate 
his love of poetical fame, and he was entreated to 
undertake some work of length, that would (as such 
a work from him must) increase the literary reputa- 
tion of the country, and ensure his own immortality. 

Such gentle upbraidings, soon excited his iras- 
cibility ; and we parted, the one in tears, the other 
in a state of irritation, which, however, was for- 
gotten, on meeting the next day. 

On the subject of his disorders, Br. Warren, sen. 
eminent as a surgeon and physician, who was his 
regular attendant, and in whom his patient had 
the greatest confidence, has been kind enough to 
furnish the following : 

" For several of the last years of his life, Mr. 
Paine was afllicted with disease, which rendered 
his situation extremely uncomfortable and dis- 
tressing. 

" In the autumn of 1805, he was attacked with 
a Eysentery, which, from neglect in the early 



ixii BlOGRAPin^ 

stages of it;, had become obstinate and confirmed. 
By a suitable course of medicine and regimen, the 
complaint was, indeed, mitigated ; but, at length, 
degenerated into chronic Biarrhma. The organs 
connected with the stomach, and subservient to the 
process of digestion, soon became diseased ; and 
obstructions of the liver and other glandular parts 
in the vicinity, almost entirely destroyed that im- 
portant function; and a long train of the most 
troublesome symptoms ensued ; from most of which, 
he from time obtained a partial relief only, by an 
occasional recurrence to medicine. 

<^^ln his languid and emaciated frame, his friends 
had long discovered the harbingers of dissolulion ; 
and it was not surprising that, under these elrenm- 
ftances, his spirits were sometimes depressed and 
despondent. 

*^^ Alternately flattered by amendment and the 
prospects of recovery, and disappoikted by relapse 
and the evidences of increasing weakness and 
decay, his existence had become burdensome ; and 
an uncommon share of fortitude, only, enabled him 
to ^ sustain his infirmity.' 

^^ If his fortitude sometimes failed him, and he was 
not always on his guard against the weaknesses of 
his nature, let it be remembered, that he was human. 

^^ The long catalogue of suiFerings, which he 
had so patiently endured, was closed by the symp. 
toms of Hydrothomx; or Dropsy of the Chest. 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixiii 

^^ Till within a few days of his death, he had 
possessed his mental faculties in remarkable per- 
fection ; and he expired, witliout having expe- 
rienced much more pain, than what had often 
attended some periods of his sickness, and without 
any apparent agonies of dissolution/^ 

He remained in a very feeble state of health, 
and unemployed ; alternately cheered by hope, and 
depressed by despondency, till about three months 
prior to his death; v/ben his landlord, to whom he 
had never paid but little rent, and for which, he in 
vain sought security for the future, threatened his 
expulsion from the premises, vi et armis. During 
the period in which Mr. Paine was so besieged by 
his landlord ; he tried in vain, day after day, to 
procure a habitation for his family, in town. At 
length a friend suggested to him, that his want of 
health, his want of business, and his known embar- 
rassments, interposed insuperable obstacles to the 
obtainment of a house, wi hout giving security for 
the rent. At this suggestion,he was highly indignant. 

The day at length arrived, when he was com- 
pelled to quit his dwelling in Dorchester ; his fur- 
niture was brought to town ; a part of it was left at 
his father's, and a portion was sent to Mrs. Paine's 
mother's, who kept a small shop in town for her 
subsistence. His wife and one child went also to 
her mother's for a temporary residence, and two of 
the children were at his father's. He was fed and 



Ixiv BIOGRAPHY. 

lodged, in an apartment at his father's ; and in 
this feeble and emaciated state, walked abroad, 
from day to day, looking like misery personified, 
and pouring his lamentations into the ears of his 
friends ; who were happy to confer those little acts 
of kindness, which afforded to him some moment- 
ary consolation. 

During this period of unhoused and disconsolate 
wretchedness, he was requested by the ^'^ Jockey 
Club,'' to write a song for their anniversary din- 
ner ; with which request, be readily promised to 
comply. Day after day elapsed without perform- 
ance, until the anniversary came round ; on the 
morning of which, a gentleman of the committee 
called on him. He said he had two verses finished, 
which did not suit him ; a sketch of a third verse ; 
and two lines of another ; subjoining, that he had 
neither pen, ink, nor paper, nor a place in which 
to write. It was suggested, that a ride might be 
of service to him ; and that at Medford, the scene 
of the races, if he were well enough, he could be 
furnished with the necessary implements to finish. 
To this proposition he assented. In some degree 
revived by the ride, he secluded himself, at twelve 
o'clock ; remoulded what he had written ; and 
completed the song in a short time. The labour 
of composition had so exhausted him, that he was 
unable to dine : but when " The Steeds of Apollo" 
was sung, he came into the room, inspired with 



BIOGRAPHY. IXV 

Hew life ; and during the evening, lie was uncom- 
monly brilliant in his conversation and toasts. 
Being congratulated on his revival, he exclaimed, 
^^B^ichard's himself again/' We record this as 
the last festive banquet, at which, he was a par- 
taker ; a scene, in which, he always shone ; and 
which, he excessively enjoyed, when seasoned 
with wit, and tempered with hiliarity. 

The next day, he relapsed into his usual lan- 
guor, but was solicitous to have his song correctly 
printed — the last earthly solicitude he ever ex- 
pressed. 

A very few days before his death, when he was 
labouring under an uncommon degree of debility, 
he observed to a friend, that he had little expect- 
ation of much longer surviving. His friend replied, 
that he expected soon to see an entire edition of 
his works. On vi^hich he remarked, " that is im- 
possible : I have been too negligent of my fame, 
in not publishing under my own eye; — God knows 
who will do it now." 

The disunion of his family, which, in his infirm 
state, deprived him of his accustomed domestic 
comforts ; and the seasonable and aifectionate atten- 
tion of his family, evidently preyed upon his mind> 
and hastened his dissolution. 

He continued, during this interval, to attend the 
theatre, as usual : 

" Such was his ruling passion, stront^ in death." 



Ixvi BIOGRAPHY. 

His last attendance there, was on Monday, No- 
vember lltli. On Tuesday, he prepared himself 
to go abroad ; but his mother and sisters, perceiv* 
ing an excessive increase of his infirmities, laid 
their affectionate prohibition upon him. He re- 
paired to an attic chamber in his father's house ; 
where he languished till Wednesday evening, 
about half past nine o'clock, when he expired, in 
the presence of his family and friends, with so 
little apparent pain, that it was difficult to deter- 
mine the precise time, when the last, lingering, 
spark of life forsook his mortal remains. 

The funeral service was performed, according to 
the congregational mode, by the Rev. Dr. Lathrop, 
on the ensuing Saturday ; and his remains were 
conveyed to the family tomb, in the central bury- 
ing ground, attended by a respectable number of 
the most distinguished citizens. 



[Mr. Prentiss had contracted to write the tSiography; and in his 
absence, and while the press was waiting* for the residue of his 
copy; at the request of the Publisher, Mr. Selfridge communi- 
cated the subsequent sheets, to conclude the Sketches of Mr, Paine's 
life, character, and writings.] 



BIOGRAPHY, Ixvii 

Mr. Paine diedj in his thirty- eighth year^ and 
left a daughter and two sons. In the autiimn of 
1804^ an endemick malady swept away his second 
and third children, then infants, within four day^ 
of each other. Immediately after the demise of 
Mr. Paine, his father invited his widow and chil- 
dren to bis house, where they continue to reside. 
This seasonable adoption, will be long and grate- 
fully remembered, by the children of humanity. 

Soon after Mr. Paine's death, the managers of 
the theatre, upon application, liberally granted a 
night for the benefit of Mrs. Paine and her children. 
Unavailing efforts were made to obtain the benefit, 
exempt from the customary expenses ; but the op- 
ulent proprietors did not relinquish their rent/ 
Encumbered with the charges, the benefit yielded, 
a profit of four hundred and fifty dollars. 

About this time, the "Jockey Club'' enclosed to 
Mrs. Paine, fifty dollars; Mr. Paine not having 
received the whole sum, which it was intended to 
eonfcr, for " The Steeds of Apollo,^' w^ritten for 
their anniversary. 

When Mr. Paine'^s immediate dissolution was 
pronounced inevitable, by his physicians, his friends 
consulted Mr. Stuart, upon the practicability of 
obtaining his portrait. He suggested, that a cast 
of the face, in plaster, would, with his recollection 
of the countenance, enable Moi to furnish a faithful 
copy of the original. 
10 



ixviii BIOGRAPHY. 

The possessors of great talents are always 
friendlj, when treading different walks. In the 
family of genius^ there is a community of feeling. 
The lyre of the bard might have been strung, to 
canonize the painter ; but the great Disposer had 
otherwise ordered. The pencil of the painter, 
rivalling the inspiration of Orpheus, has recalled 
the Poet from the nations of the dead ; embodied 
his mind ', and animated the canvass with his liv- 
ing image. 

These instances of posthumous regard, bestowed 
upon the memory and the family of Mr. Paine, 
savour, neither of ostentation nor selfishness, and 
are recorded with sentiments of unmingled pleas- 
ure. 

Having consigned Mr. Paine to the tomb, it is 
not our design. 

To draw his frailties from their dread abode ; 

but it will be our endeavour to dispose of his light 
and shade, in a manner, to afford the strongest 
relief to his character. 

The stature of Mr. Paine was deceptive. His 
height was five feet, nine and an half inches; 
although, apparently, not more than five feet, eight 
inches. His bones were small; his fibres had little 
tension ; and of course, his muscles but little com- 
pactness. His frame and movement indicated an 
absence of physical power. His hair was sandy 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixix 

and his complexion light. His forehead was high, 
remarkably wide, and clearly defined. His eyes 
were blue, very prominent, but inexpressive, ex- 
cept when he was strongly excited ; and his nose 
was of the common size, slender and angular. His 
mouth was large, heavy, and sensual ; and his lips 
possessed an uncommon thickness, which extended 
to a considerable distance from the edges, which 
were not uncommonly protuberant. The lower 
part of his face, in character, furnished a striking 
contrast to the upper ; but there was nothing sin- 
gular in its formation. The tout ensemble was 
not repulsive ; nor could it be said, 

Vultus ei'at multa ac pr?eclara minantis. 

Mr. Paine attached great consequence to 7nan- 
•ners. This sentiment he, probably, early imbibed 
from the Roman writers, who had no discrimin- 
ating terms, to express the difference of import, 
annexed, by us, to morals and manners. He was 
modelled upon the old school. Without being 
familiar, he was easy among friends, and courtly 
to strangers. In colloquial discussion, he rigidly 
adhered to the law of politeness ; and in mixed 
society, he neither courted the high, nor avoided 
the loii\ Distress never induced him to solicit 
favours from those, who were abundantly able ; 
and who, probably, would have been willing to have 
conferred them. Had this salutary principle of 



JXX BIOGRAPHY. 

pride pervaded his major, as it did his minor mor- 
als, it would have rescued him from ruin. His 
composition combined the most striking contrarie- 
ties ; and his life was a continued illustration of 
the truth of one of his own couplets ;— 

Nature ne'er meant her secrets should be found ; 
And man 's a riddle, which man can't expound. 

He frequently deplored a supposed decay of 
manners. With concern, he used to inquire, ^^ In 
manners, wJiere is the successour q/' Gten. Knox td 
he found P^' It was with him a constant topick of 
complaint, that '^^ the old, genteel, town families^ 
had been elbowed out of house and home, by new- 
comers f^ that ^* instead of the pojished manners of 
a city, we should soon exhibit that groivth of gen- 
tility, which isjjroduced by ingrafting dollars upon 
village habits and loiv employments. There is as 
wide a diWerence,'"^ said he '^^ between the old school 
and the new, as there was between the polished ease 
of the reign of Augustus, and the rude turbulence 
of the epoch of the Gracchi.'^ 

In the varied powers of conversation, Mr. Paine 
particularly excelled. With the operation of the 
passions ; the modes of artificial life ; and the 
general laws of human nature ; he was well ac- 
quainted. He had learned the history and use of 
those branches of knowledge, which he had not 
attentively cultivated. This not only answered 
the purposc^s pf oral comjnuiiicatioB ^ but of poetic 



BIOGRAPHY. ]xxi 

allusion and illustration. He liad scarcely wit- 
nessed a seene^ from which, he had not selected a 
metaphor ; drawn a simile ; or constructed an alle- 
gory. His narration conformed to the canons of 
criticism, for the fable and structure of a poem. 
He rarely confined himself to a dull recital of 
facts ; but interspersed his narrative, with pertinent 
reflections ; adorned it with brilliant allusions ; 
and frequently indulged in animated episodes, 
which he always highly embellished. His tran^ 
sitions. 

From grave to gay ; from lively to severe, 

were rapid and unexpected. When kindled by 
sympathy, excited by collision, or roused from 
opposition, he enlivened, delighted, and aston- 
ished, for successive hours. Once engaged, he 
was an electric battery ; approach him, and lie 
scintillated j touch him, and he emitted a blaze. 

We will select a few instances of that sponta- 
neous flow of thought, which was ^^ wont to set 
the table on a roar." He rarely quitted a conviv- 
ial party, without having said some, perhaps many 
things, as memorable as any which are recollected. 

When the opposition to the erection of the the- 
atre was overcome, he remarked, " The Vandal 
s]}iritof]puritanism is prostrate in JVetv-EnglandJ^ 
The first time that he dined at his father's, after 
their reconciliation, his toast was requested, and 
|ie gave, ^' T/je love of liherty^ and the liberty of 



Ixxii BIOGRAPHY. 

loving.'^ Tlierb was an alarm of fire, when he was 
playing whist, at Concert Hall. A gentleman ob- 
served, that the fire was near Br. Latlirop's, as 
there was a luminous reflection from the steeple 
of his meeting-house. Without the least diversion 
from his game, he said, ^^ The sj)lendour of the 
church always defends upon the distress of the 
citizen.'^ A volume of ecclesiastic history, in a sin- 
gle sentence ! A client, of Titanian size, was in his 
office ; his visage was dark, furrowed, and shining 
with perspiration. When he retired, Paine ex- 
claimed, ^* That fellow^ s countenance is the eastern 
aspect of the Alps^ at sunrise ; — alternate splendour 
and gloom / — ridges of sunshine and cavities of 
shade.^^ In a political discussion, which was con- 
ducted with warmth, he said, of the Essex Junto, 
'-^ Washington ivas its sublime head, and the tower 
of its strength ; it was informed hy the genius, and 
guided hy the energy of Hamilton. Since their 
decease, nothing, but the attic salt of Fisher Ames ^ 
has preserved it from putrefaction. When the 
ethereal spirits escaped, the residuum settled into 
faction. It has captured Boston, and keeps it in 
tow, nice a prize ship.''* Dining one day, with a 

*Not to make an apology, but to exonerate. Mr. Paine, from 
a momentary vaccination in his political principles, we would 
observe, that this remark was made in the summer of 1807, 
after the attack of the British ship of war, Leopard, upon the 
American frigate, Chesapeak, At this period, certain jour- 
nalists, essayists, and pamphleteers, agaiufit the most drarlij 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixxiii 

friend^ some of whose guests, he fancied, treated 
him with disrespect ; he was resolved upon revenge, 
before the separation of the company. When he 
had dined, he monopolized the table, by com- 
mencing a dissertation upon Juvenal and his sat- 
ires, with some pointed applications to the persons 
and characters of those whom he wished to punish. 
The stream flowed uninterruptedly. The obnox- 
ious individuals, soon retired from a table, where, 
after dining, they were neither pleased nor edified. 
When he perceived, that they were gone, he ex- 
claimed, with an air of triumph, ^^/ have made 
these great men, so sensible of their littleness, that 
they cannot endure it." In a small party of friends, 
religion became the subject of discussion. The 
internal and historical evidences of revelation, 
Were enforced with great ingenuity and eloquence 
by Mr. Paine. His adversary, if not convinced, 
was overwhelmed ; and after a moment's pause, 
petulantly propounded this question : " If you are 

dejined rights of their orjn cot:niTi/, united, in vindication of 
the aggression of the British commander. The minister of 
foreign relations, at St. James', hastened to disavow the act ; 
the king, from his throne, disavowed it to his parliament ; and 
the Bi'itish Government have since made atonement for the 
outrage. If the atonement had been accorded, as a matter of 
strict right, unincumbered, with " the spontaneous bounty of 
his majesty," in the pitiful provision for the families of the 
deceased, Mr. Madison would not have disgraced his country, 
by accepting it. The royal bounty accepted, as a healing 
plaster, for the bruised honour of America ! 



Ixxiv iSIOGKAPHl.; 

SO strenuous a believer, Sir, wliy don't yon attend 
public worship ?" This abrupt departure from the 
main question, could not have been anticipated ; 
but Mr. Paine instantaneously replied, '^ Religion^ 
Sir, does not consist in forms ; nor do I believe, 
that -priests are oracles. The lily, or the glow- 
worm, furnishes higher evidence of the being and 
attributes of the Beity^ than all the tomes of the 
christian fathers. The universe is vocal with the 
J\Iaker^s praise / and J prefer, like the primitive 
christians, to worship in a temple, not made with 
hands.^^ A gentleman of some literary pretensions, 
was the reputed editor of two periodical papers, 
the Emerald and the Ordeal, which went down, at 
no distant period from Ciich other. Ignorant of 
this fact, a literary stranger inquired of Mr. Paine, 
*^^ whsd rank this gentleman held among the liter- 
ati?" Paine answered, ^^ He possesses the greatest 
literary execution of any man in Jlmerica. Two 
journals have perished under his hands, in six 
months !" We have introduced as much variety, 
in these selections, as their number would admit. 
In the latter years of Mr. Paine's life, his con- 
versation, in some degree, changed its character. 
He was less brilliant, and more didactic. The 
Drama, literature, metaphysics, and theolog}^, were 
his favourite subjects ; but he frequently ranged 
the regions of science. 

Far as the solar walk, or piilky way. 



EIOGiRAPHY. IXXV 

In all companies, he was a decided foe to vul- 
garity and indecency. Had some companion, 
like Bos well, been diligent in compiling the 
fragments of his conversation, volumes might have 
been composed, not inferiour, in splendour and 
strength, to much, wbicli has been gleaned from 
the British Socrates. His pen opened the quarry^ 
but liis tongue gave a lustre to the diamond. 

In his early years, Mr. Paine was a diligent 
and systematic student ; and what was once ac- 
quired, was never forgotten. Upon unimportant 
dates and trivial incidents, he never dissipated atten- 
tion. He had committed to memory, but few long 
passages, even from his favourite authors ; but the 
essence of a book, which he had once read, never 
escaped the keen grasp of his mind. He possessed 
the rare gift of " an intellectual digestion, that 
concocted the pulp of learning, and refused its 
husks," in a degree, which falls to the lot of but few. 

To his collegiate attainments, in the languages, 
we have already adverted. To these, he added a, 
knowledge of the French, competent to read its 
writers with iluency. In philosophy, geography, 
philology, history, metaphysics, and criticism, he 
was well versed; in cliymistry and medicine, he 
was also a considerable proficient. Few topics of 
conversation could be introduced, upon which, he 
was unable to make a brilliant display ; and no 
man ever enjoyed a more singular felicity in the 



IxXVi BIOGRAPHY. 

command of his powers. Ovid, Juvenal, Cicero, 
and Qiiintilian, were the Romans, with whom he 
held the ^^ sweetest communion." He was per- 
fectly conversant with the British classics ; but 
Shakespeare and Dryden were the household gods 
of his muse. 

The reading of his latter years was extremely 
desultory ; but he seized every new fact and prin- 
ciple with avidity, and inalienably appropriated 
them to the stock, already reposited in his own 
inexhaustible magazine. He was singularly con- 
scious of the transitory events of the living world ; 
and had an intuitive knowledge of stage effect^ as 
well in the Drama of reality, as in the humble 
scenes of mimic exhibition. He could predict with 
accuracy, the success of a play and the issue of a 
campaign, the turmoils of the green-room and the 
agitations of the republic. To those, with whom 
he was most intimate, the march of his mind, in 
its various acquisitions ^'^ amidst inconvenience and 
distraction, in sickness and in sorrow," was a 
matter of wonder and surprise. 

Under the tuition of his great master, Mr. Paine 
cultivated, with assiduity and success, the elements 
of his profession, and the subtle science of special 
pleading. Probably, no student had ever acquired 
a more ready precision of technical expression, or 
had better imbued his mind with legal forms. Few 
could have been more demonstrative in forensic 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixxvii 

argument and in the regions of eloquence, none 
could have wheeled his flight upon a bolder wing. 
Prompted by an ambition to shine, in his earliest 
assays at the bar of the Common Pleas, he cited 
Horace to the court, and explained positions to the 
Jury, by mythological allusions ; but experience 
soon taught him, that classical learning was an ill- 
assorted commodity, for the market in which he 
exposed it. 

In politics, Mr. Paine was a disciple of the old 
federal school. He understood the constitution, 
as Washington administered, and as Hamilton had 
expounded it. He was an advocate for the prac- 
tical circumscription of state sovereignties, and was 
invariably opposed to state interferences in national 
legislation. He said, when Virginia pronounced 
the alien and sedition laws unconstitutional, " This 
won't do — it is taking the bolt from the hand of 
the thuuderer." His <^^ Rule New England,'' 
written many years ago, and his ^^ Arouse, Arouse, 
Columbia's Sons, Arouse," written for the 4th of 
July, 1811, evince a striking contrast. One is 
local, the other national. If popular songs produce 
effect, the tendency of the sentiments of the former^ 
is to dismember, and of the latter, to cement the 
union. Ardent patriotism was the predominant pas- 
sion of his heart ; and he traced the rising glories 
of his country, in the brightest visions of fancy. 



Ixxviii BIOGRAPHY. 

Of Ills religious opinions, we can speak with 
coBfidenee. In "The Nature and Progress of 
Liberty." in bis conimeudiition of Mayhew, wbo 
first dissolved the religious spell, that bound New 
England, by vindicating the right of private jndg- 
met.t, it maybe perceived, that lie bad laid the foun- 
dation of free thinlchig. In ea.rly life, the fanatic 
Atheism of France, decorated in all (he meretri- 
cious charms of eloquence and philosophy, took a 
transient possession of his mind. He, however, 
soon abjured the comfortless tenets of his new 
creed; seriously examined the Evidences of Chris- 
tianity ; and died in the belief of the religion of 
his fathers. 

A general coincidence of opinion, has induced 
us to extract Mr. Paine's character, as an author, 
from tlie prospectus to his works. 

^' Of Mr. Paine, as an author, we cannot speak 
in terms of unmingled praise. His verse, indeed, 
seldom loiters into prose ; but it must be confessed, 
that his prose is here and there " tricked and 
frounced, till it outmantles all the pride of verse." 
His numbers are, perhaps, never feeble or fault- 
ering, but a wild and frolic imagination, occasion- 
ally, wantons through his periods, and sometimes 
displays itself in contemning the chaster elegancies, 
and sometimes in neglecting the severer decencies 
of thought and diction. 



BIOGRAPHY. ixxix 

^^Yet, sotwitlistanding the few and scattered 
passages, to wliieli the prudery of criticism may 
except, the prose, as well as the verse of Mr. 
Paine, will always be regarded, as invigorated 
with the ^^ authentic fire" of a bold and fervid 
genius. His faults of style and sentiment must 
stand as the proofs, for they are, unquestionably, 
the effects, of a great mind, failing in great attempts. 
Like his favourite, Dryden, Mr. Paine delighted 
in those bursts of enthusiasm, which are great and 
striking in themselves, and appeal to the heart, 
with a power which awakens and absorbs the whole 
passion of admiration, perhaps for no other or bet- 
ter reason, than merely because they disdain and 
defy the maxims of Aristotle. 

*^ Such are his defects ; but the excellencies of 
Mr. Paine are sufficient to atone for all his offences, 
even if they were infinitely more frequent and fla- 
grant against good taste and sober criticism. Of 
tliese excellencies, the most prominent, and that 
to which we would direct the attention of every 
reader, is the high and holy strain of moralit}^ and 
patriotism, which breathes through his writings, 
like a response, whispering out the fates, from the 
shrine of Apollo. With this spirit, his prose, as 
w^ell as his verse, is largely informed. It charms, 
in his earlier efforts : it delights and astonishes, in 
ihe productions of his riper years. His patriotism 
never foams itself out in frothy professions ; his 



IXXX BIOGRAPHY. 

morality never loses its serene and cheerful dig- 
nity, by descending to humour the whims of the 
fickle, or mimic the airs of the thoughtless. Such 
was his reverence for virtue, that the virgin's 
cheek, while reading his page, cannot redden to a 
blush : his affection for his natal soil was such, 
that his country, as some faint requital of his grat- 
itude,.ought always to boast of his fame, as of one, 
among the living lights of her own untarnished 
glory. 

'^ Upon Mr. Paine's scrupulous observance of 
the laws of English Prosod}^, as settled by Dryden 
and Pope, on his exact rhymes, his happy allu- 
sions, his brilliant imagery, and all his other and 
subsidiary accomplishments as an author, it were 
easy to enlarge. But to those who cherish the 
hope (is it a fond or an idle hope ?) of seeing one 
of their countrymen taking his place, not by the 
courtesy of the present age, but by the full and 
consentient suffrage of posterity, on the same shelf 
with the prince of English rhyme, enough has 
already been said.'' 

To speak of Mr. Paine as a man ; — Mc laibov, 
Iwc opus est. In his intercourse with the world, 
his earliest impressions were rarely correct. His 
vivid imagination, in his first interviews, under- 
valued, or overrated almost every individual with 
whom he came in contact ; but when a protracted 
acquaintance had effaced early impressions, his 



BIOGRAPHY. IxXXi 

judgment recovered its tone^ and no man broiiglit 
his associates to a fairer scrutiny ; or could delin- 
eate tlieir characteristics with greater exactness. 

Nullius addictus jurare, in verba, raagistri j 

and when he had once formed a deliberate opinion^, 
without a change of circumstances^ it is not known 
that he ever renounced it. Studious to please, he 
was only impatient of obtrusive folly, impertinent 
presumption, or vicious speculation. His friend- 
ships were cordial, and his good genius soon rec- 
tified the precipitance of his enmities. To con- 
flicting propositions, he listened with attention j 
heard his own opinions contested, with compla- 
cency ; and replied with courtesy. No root of 
bitterness ever quickened in his mind. If injured^, 
he was placable ; if oifendetl, he 

Shewed a hasty spark. 

And straight was cold again. 

Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos, 

was in strict unison with the habitual elevation 
of his feelings. Such services, as it was in his 
power to render to others, he performed with manly 
zeal ; and their value v/as enhanced, by being gen- 
erally rendered, where they were most needed ; and 
through life, he cherished a lively gratitude towards 
those, from whom he had received benefits. His 
mind was inaccessible to the tribe of malignant 
passions, which so frequently disfigure literary his- 
tory; he hailed every young author, as a brother: 



IxXXii BIOGRAPHY. 

and every candidate, aspiring to fame, found in liini 
an ardent and an unremitting supporter. No mail 
was ever more perfectly purified from the taint of 
avarice, or more sincerely respected and reverenced 
the amiable and heroic virtues iu others. Yet indo- 
lence, w^ine, and women, have eriised his name 
from the calendar of the saints. To the stern 
justice of this decision, we bow in sorrowful ac- 
cordance ; but let us impartially examine the cir- 
cumstances, in miligatiou, as well as those, which 
coutervailthe effect of the sentence, if not reverse 
the judgment. He sensibly felt, and clearly fore- 
saw, the consequences of the continuous indulgence 
of his habits, and passed frequent resolutions of 
reformation ; but daily embarrassments shook the 
resolves of his seclusion, and reform was indefi- 
nitely postponed. He urged, as an excuse for 
delaying the Herculean task, that it was impossi- 
ble to commence it, Vv h'le perplexed with diilculty 
and surrounded with distress. Instead of rising 
with an elastic power, and throwing the incumbent 
pressure from his shoulders, he succumbed under 
its accumulating weight, until he became insuper- 
ably recumbent ; and vital action was only precari- 
ously sustained, by adminisleriisg " the extreme 
medicine of the constitiitioo, for it^ daily food.'^ 

If those, who ascend Parnassus, experience a 
keenness of pleasure, which none but poets know, 
it is to be presumed, that_^they experience a keen- 
ness of sorrow, which none but poets feel. In 



BIOGRAPHY. Ixxxiii 

genius, there is not only an inherent haughtiness, 
which frequently disdains the maxims of vulgar 
prudence ; but it has been contended, that in the 
poetic temperament^ there is some intractable qual- 
ity, practically at variance with moral discretion. 
However this may be, it is a general truth, that 
these ethereal spirits, in their journey to the stars, 
have had but a sorrowing pilgrimage in the nether 
world. But we will relinquish hypothesis and 
recur to fact. 

Mental labour induces lassitude of body and a 
disinclination to exertion. When these are accom- 
panied by illness, the stoutest resolution is ap- 
palled. How can those affirm, whose sails have 
always been prosperously filled, that, if their lives 
had been cheated by hope, and chequered by 
misfortune, like his, they should have uniformly 
refrained from " physical aid for their moral con- 
solation ?'' Driven into scenes, for society, where 
virtue does not always wear her most forbidding 
aspect, what mortal can afTumjthat he should have 
steadfastly preserved his stoical austerity ? In 
conversation, Mr. Paine was always the champion 
of good principles, and ws believe, that he has 
written no couplet, which a moralist would wish 
to blot. An example, so pregnant with misery, 
cannot be contagious ; indeed, the example of any 
private individual. 

His time a moment, and a point his space, 

IS 



IxXXiv BIOGRAPHY. 

cannot be of wide influence or of long duration^ 
compared with the imperishable relieks of the 
mind. The statesman, who has served, and the 
hero, who has bled for his country, live in their 
oVi^n great actions, to inspire unborn ages, and 
posterity consecrates their memories, without a pre- 
vious inquest, as to their temperance or chastity. 
It is immaterial, to the present generation, whether 
the digcoverer of the mariner's compass, or the 
inventor of the art of printing, lived morally or 
sensually. If irregularity of life overshadowed 
their fame for a season, they have since emerged 
from the cloud, in a blaze of glory, which has 
dispelled the mist, and will convey their names to 
the end of time, as the most illustrious benefactors 
of the human race. The writer, however he lived, 
who impregnated his compositions with high prin- 
ciples of moral action, and sublime sentiments of 
.patriotism : and who wrote popularly enough to 
be read, and splendidly or profoundly enough to 
endure, is a witness, testifying i'rom the grave — 
an advocate from the world of spirits, in the cause 
of morality. He has lighted a vestal fire, in the 
temple of virtue, and will officiate at her altars, 

Until the last and dreadful houi", 
This crumbling pageant shall devour; 
The trumpet shall be heard on high ; 
The dead shall live — the living die. 

So.sv'd?;, Sct'it. 1, 1812. 



TRIBUTARY LINES, 



TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE 



ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 



MONODY 



ON THE DEATH OF 



ROBERT T. PAINE, JUN. ESq. 



JMouRN we the Brave, whose days are past; 

Whose gallant deeds, in war, are o'er ; 
When dark, m fury, swept the blast, 

They fell to save their ualive shore ? 

Mourn we the fall of beauty's flower, 

Gay, fragrant, fresh ; whose glowing charms 

Bloom'd through the morning's modest hour, 
Then sunk in summer's sultry arms. 

And shall our Bard, unsung, expire, 

In cold neglect, unhonor'd lie, 
Who struck his high, heroic lyre, 

With fancy's holiest ecstacy ? 

Bright was his youth — the playful muse 
Breath'd on his infant lips her flame, 

And, ere he caught her dazzling hues, 
The votary wildly dream'd of fame. 

Ne'er was a nobler spirit born, 

A loftier soul, a gentler heart ; 
Above the world's ignoble scorn, 

Above the reach of venal art. 



ixxxviii .MONODY. 

Genius was his ; whose various rays 
Illum'd with joy the social hours, 

Or pour'd a full, impetuous blaze 

Through all the Poet's magic powers. 

Nor less his daring spirit sought 

The depths of learning's ancient st(ji*e ; 

Or paus'd o'er nature's secret thougl^, 
Or soar'd in fame's sublimer lore. "^ 

But most shall friendship love to trace 
The scenes, with liberal mirth entwin'd ; 

What streams of wit ! what flowing grace ! 
What sparkling sense ! what cloudless mind.' 

Oft has declin'd the midnight star, 
Yet seem'd the parting hour too near ; 

And oft the breezy morn, afar. 

Caught the loud laugh, or generous tear. 

But ail is past — beneath the sod 
Low lies the Poet's weary head : 

His grief-worn soul has rest in God ; 
Bright-rob'd, in glory, ere it fled. 

Nor bitter be the tears, that flow 
In silence round his wintry urn ; 

Still friendship's breast shall warmly glow, 
Still love with holy reverence mourn. 

When sleep the Brave — 'tis honour's sleep ; 

When falls the Bard, his brilliant doom 
Age after age shall memory keep. 

And chase the darkness from his tomb. 

The dreams of wealth shall pass away, 
Nor leave a wreck of thought behind; 

But deathless, Genius, is thy sway, 
The immortal triumph of the mind. 



The following Tributary Lines appeared in the " Charleston Courier," 
soon after the death of Mr. Paine. 



" Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay." 

VV EEP now, ye Muses, let your sorrows flow. 
For Paine, the pride of minstrelsy, lies low ; 
Ye, who inspired his ever tuneful breath. 
Could not secure him from the shafts of death. 

His harp is broken, and his lyre unstrung, 
Who Moore's triumphant death and gloiy sung ; 
And he, who deck'd with laurel valor's tomb, 
Now rests, alas ! with Moore, in kindred gloom. 

If wit or genius had the power to save 
-Their great possessor from the darksome grave ; 
Your much-lov'd offspring's loss we should not mournj 
Nor moisten, with our tears, his funeral urn. 

Who his deserted station can supply, 
And fill the foremost ranks of Poesy ? 
Vain is th' attempt our soiTows to restrain^ 
For we shall never view another Paine. 

For every noble quality renowned^ 
And with the choicest gifts of Nature crowned : 
Shall not his strains succeeding Bards inspire. 
And stamp their works with more than mortal fire^ 

Yes ; while the noble fame of Moore shall last^ 
Not scandal's breath, nor envy's withering blast, 
Shall dai-e, with impious power, attack his name, 
Or, from his memory, snatch the wreaths of fame. 



COLUMBIA S BARD. 

W HERE yon willow's boughs entwining 

Cast a shadow o'er the plain, 
In her classic shades reclining, 
Science mourns the loss of Paine. 

Columbia's Bard ! 
O'er his tomb the ipuses weep, 
Where, shrin'd in earth, his ashes sleep 1 

Never ! shall his tuneful numbers 

Charm the list'ning ear again ! 
Cold and silent, whei'e he slumbers, 
Genius weeps the fate of Paine. 

Columbia's Bard I 
" Son of Song !" thy lay is o'er. 
The festive hall resounds no more ! 

" To-morrow may the trav'ler come. 

He, who has heard the Poet's strain, 
His foot may press the grassy tomb," 
Unconscious 'tis the bed of Paine. 

Columbia's Bard I 
Hark ! the hollow night-breeze sighs, 
"Where, wrapped in death, the Poet lies ! 

Haste thee, Spring ! to deck thy bowers. 

Bid young Beauty dress the plain ! 
Let thy fairest, sweetest flowers, 

Wreathe around the tomb of Paine, 

Columbia's Bard I 
May he, who bears his father's name. 
Possess his genius ! merit all his fame ! 



THE ^ 



WORKS 



R. T. PAINE, JUN. ESQ 



PART I. 



JUVENILE POEMS. 



Consisting chiefly of 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 



JVOTE- 



These Poems are selected from a 7nanuscrifit^ tohich apfiears 
to contain copies of Mr. Paine's themes., as they are called., at 
Cambridge. These themes^ written diiring his junior and senior 
years., were submitted to a Professor for revision. Whether the 
copies were made before or after such revision I know not. The 
motto and preface to this manuscript are worthy of places in the 
text. ~- 

Beside the poems selected from this manuscript, it is proposed^ 
■under this division of the work, to arrange, according to time, such 
of Mr, Paine's performances, while at the University, as came 
without exaction from his pen, or were produced by some publick 
solemnity. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES- 



PREFACE. 



Maturer life, with smiling e3'c, will view 

The imperfect scenes, which youthful fancy drew. 



W HiLE vernal years in swift succession roll, 
And fancy's gairish prospects cheer the soul ; 
Beneath Maecenas' guardian care, my muse 
With panting breast her infant song pursues; 

To teach the rapid moments, as they fly 
Beyond the utmost ken of moital eye. 
The smile of sportive pleasure to assume. 
And bid the flowers of hope unfolding bloom ; 
To gild with bright improvement's flattering ray 
The fond I'emembrance of each passing day ; 
To mould the heart by sentiment and truth, 
And bind the olive round the brow of youth ; 
These were the motives, which inspired the verse. 
Though neither bold, nor elegantly terse, 
Though in the strains no dazzling beauties shine. 
Though poesy reject each embryo line ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

Yet simple numbers, unrefined by art, 
Here paint the warm effusions of the heart. 
The lettered bigot, with sarcastick phlegm. 
And lifeless system, may the song condemn ; 
But let proud criticks frown, whene'er I sing, 
'Tis not to them I tune my vocal string ; 
If my harsh notes disgust your nicer ear. 
Avert your heads, ye are not forced to hear. 
While I adventure on the sea of song. 
Propitious learning wafts my bark along ; 
Yet see, at candour's throne the suppliant sues. 
In the low accents of the lisping muse. 



"An undevout astronomer is mad." 

Young. 



IWritten J\"ov. 17, 1790.] 

Jdright is the sun beam, smiling after showers ; 
Sweet are the pleasures of the rural groves, 
When pearls, unnumbered, deck the morning grass ; 
But sweeter still the joys of evening walk. 
Brighter the glories of the unbounded God.* 

Hail, sacred eve, thy presence sweet I woo, 
Where pensive Solitude with rambling feet. 
Strays through thy dusky groves, to view the works 
Of heaven's high King ; or, sunk m rapture's trance, 
With silent gratitude delights to hear 
Nature's soft harp, " the musick of the spheres," 
Which chant in endless notes Jehovah's praise ! 

Come tlien, sweet nymph, thy mildest breath impact, 
To swell the youthful muse's artless reed ; ' 
Faintly to echo, with unskilful trill, 
One note of Nature's universal song. 

The sun, fatigued with his diumal course 
Through heaven's high summit, sunk to soft repose'. 
The Zephyrs, loaded with the rich perfumes 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Of yon tall hill, in gay luxuriance clad, 

Whispered invitement^ to the bower of joy, 

And by the ambrosial presents, which they brought, 

Urged their request, and won my willing soul.* 

To the fair spot I rove ; a devious way 

In many wandei'ings leads me to the height. 

Along its brow a shaggy ridge of rocks, 

High towering, keeps the distant fields in awe, 

Enhedged^ with flowers, and shrubs, and vines, and thorns, 

Which in luxuriant confusion grew.^ 

Deep boiling o'er the top from confluent springs, 
A river rolls adown the sloping hill ; 
From the high rocks the dashing current leaps 
In one broad sheet, till, spreading by degrees, 
The white foam flashes o'er the pointed crags. 
Which with continual rage embroil its waves ; 
Now whirls in eddies, now in loud cascades 
Rolls the vexed current ; while with rapid speed 
Waves crowd on waves, to escape the rocks, and gain 
The peaceful harbour of the quiet vale. 

How short this ever varying scene of life ! 
How troubled too Avith woes ! Thus down the stream 
Of cares, perplexities, distress and wants. 
As waves on waves, so generations crowd. '' 
See, the vain bubble, floating down the surge, 
From yon bright cloud a purple tincture draws ; 
But mark yon rock ; its beauties ; they are fled ! 
Thus wrecked, shall vanish all the world calls great ; 
Not all his purple can protect the king. 
The busy world, and all the joys it boasta> 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Where harpy Care and Disappointment reign, 

Are like the billows of the troubled sea ; 

While calm Content and Solitude, sweet pair, 

Like the soft lustre of Hesperian day. 

E'er sweetly smile to lure us from the storm. 

When sin disturbed the peace of Eden's bowers, 

And man, degenerate, to her banners fled ; 

All-bounteous Heaven, although provoked to wrath, 

Sent these fair visitants with exiled man, 

To guide him in the paths, which lead to peace. 

Here then they come ! Their silent tread I hear.^ 

God to their smiles creative power has given, 

For here they smile, and second Eden blooms. 

The gilded roof, the regal dome they fly. 

And here with mild Philosophy retreat. 

To shady grots, where Contemplation reigns, 

They lead the heavenly pensive maid ; 'tis here 

That purest happiness delights to dwell. 

Can he, who in these solitary seats 

Retired, enjoying philosophick ease ; 

Can he, whose study and delight 's to scan 

The laws, which regulate the starry world, 

Be so infatuate, as to think that Chance, 

Presiding, held tlie sceptre of the sky. 

Gave Nature birth, and linked in one great chain 

Creation's scale, from angels to the worm ? 

Dun night her sable curtain draws around, 
And with diffusive dai'kness, far and near. 
Burying the cot, the palace, and the tower, 
Calls Reason's eye from objects here below, 
To trace the wonders of tlie spangled sky. 
2 



10 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Far as the eye can sweep in utmost range, 

Where spheres on spheres in bright confusion roll. 

Where swift Philosophy with towering speed 

Extends her wings, and from the blazing height 

Of Sirius descries more distant worlds ;' " 

These are thy Avonders, great Jehovah ; these,' ' 

As all their various orbits they perform, 

Speak forth thy majesty and endless praise. 

The mighty pillars of the universe, 

The ethereal arch, with starry curtains hung, 

Thy hands have made ; through the stupendous frame 

Loud hallelujahs and hosannas sound, 

Wafting thy glory to unnumbered worlds, 

In Natvire's language, understood by all. ' ^ 

Yet though to us unbounded these may seem. 

Throned on the height of thy omnipotence, 

Thou look'st abroad with all discovering eye, 

And all creation far beneath thee rolls. 

'Tis thou, who check' st in mid career tlie storm, * ^ 

Which on the wings of furious whii'lwinds sweeps ; 

When battling clouds, in horrid ruin, crush, 

And their pent wrath in bursting lightnings pour. ' * 

When raging winds, from jEoIus released. 

From its foundations heave the boiling deep,' ^ 

And heaven-topped waves in liquid mountains rise, 

And leave old ocean's dark recesses dry ; 

Thou smils't;— the main subsides, to smile witli thee.* ^ 

When, in the car of wrath, thou thunderest forth 
To scour the nations with afflictive rod ; 
Before thy chariot wheels, self rolling, flies'^ 
Pale Awe, and strikes the universe with dread. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 11 

The tall hills tremble, and the valleys rise ; 

Guilt's tottering knees in mad distraction beat, 

And the rent poles re-echo with thy voice. 

One angry look from thee would cause the world 

To dwindle mto nought ; one wratliful word 

The universal edifice to fall,' ' 

And its high colunms moulder into dust. 

What soul but quakes, when thy deep thunders roll, 
Qr starts affrighted, when thy lightnings fly ? 
The astonish'd earth confesses power divine, 
And, trembling, owns the presence of its God; 
Shall not devotion then, with early day 
Enkindling, glow, nor at the setting sun, 
Man, thy own offspring, praise thy glorious name ? 
Forbid it, heaven, that he again should sin 
Against the light of all your brilliant orbs, 
And be expelled from earth's tmblest abode. 
An Eden, sure, compared to hells below ! 

Can there exist a son from Adam sprung, 
How abject e'er from native dignity. 
Or, in the vale of ignorance remote 
From the bright sunshine of the learned world, 
Who but uplifts his eye to yon bright vault, 
Views all the glories, which emblaze the pole, 
And doubts, one moment, their Creator's power ? 
All nature 's vocal with the voice of God ; 
From sphere to sphere Jehovah's name resounds ; 
E'en savage Indians, with untutored souls, 
" See God in clouds, and hear him in the winds." 



12 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

If then one high Supreme presides o'er all ; 
As he, who is not deaf to Nature's voice, 
Can't but confess ; who then can be so mad, 
As to refuse, to that omniscient Power, 
Devotion, due to his omnipotence ? 
And in rebellion rise against his arm, 
Whose breath created, and enlivens nature ? 
The soul of man, too feeble to endure 
The vile transgression, shudders at its sight. 

But there are such, who in the moral world 
With genius blest, by fostering wisdom nursed. 
Who oft have ranged the illimitable sky, 
In vain conception of some selfish end, 
Nor given to God the gloiy of his skill. 
With vain idolatry and frenzy fired, 
They reach the utmost verge of mortal ken. 
Nor once perceive the features of a God 
In wide .magnificence illumine all. 
They see the grand machine unvarying roll, 
Nor once discern the arm, that moves the whole. 
In " light ineffable," they soar aloft, 
But stain its purity with blackest crime. 
Recoiling Reason startles at the deed, 
And Nature's self, with indignation fired, 
Blushes to view her own perversity. 

Dark night with deepening gloom draws on apace 5 
The russet groves no trembling zephyr moves ; 
In majesty ascends night's brilliant queen; 
The lengthened shades o'er every field extend, 
And light, promiscuous, beautifies each scene. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. IS 

Hard by the murmurs of the chrystal stream, 
A sudden voice I hear ; amazed I stand, 
Catch every sound, and still the voice returns ! 

Behold a sage advancing through the groves, 
The moonbeam trembling on his silver locks. 
Again I listen, but his voice has ceased ! 
Time's ruthless ha,nd with wrinkles knit his brow ; 
A long white beard descended froiu his chin ; 
A sudden awe thi'ills through my every limb ; 
He stops, abrupt, beside a purling stream, 
Where chaste Diana kissed the silver wave. 
Fair in the azure chambers of the east, 
His raptured eyes beheld the radiant maid ; 
The spangled constellations of the heavens, 
Lost in surprise, astonishment, he viewed ; 
" These are thy works, eternal Father ; thine 
" Nature's great altar of unceasing praise, 
" Raised m the temple of unbounded space ! 
" Blest be that God who smiled upon my birth, 
" Who sent a guardian angel from the sky 
" To snatch me from the wreck, which tlireats the world, 
" Amid these lone retreats, to range the stars, 
" Those gems, that with unsullied lustre shine, 
" To grace the crown of high Omnipotence." 
He ceas'd ; his lips in faltering silence hung ; 
But silence spoke, devotion was not dumb. 
The tear of gratitude gush'd from his eye, 
And the pure transport melted all his soul. 

Hail, bright Philosophy, thy pages ne'er 
Could boast a fairer dignity to man ! 



14 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Of morals pure, and of a heart sincere, 

In liim the virtues, all resplendent, shone. 

" Yon river," spoke the sage, " which foams along, 

" Its waves perplexed, by craggy rocks enraged, 

" Points to my eye the picture of the world, 

" Whei'e care corrodes all happiness below. 

" From the tumultuous scenes of worldly strife, 

" Where pride's gay, tinsel train, in fashion's sun, 

" Bask like the butterfly, a day to charm, 

" To these green bowers, and rural groves I came, 

" And sought retirement in her native shade. 

" The heaven which mortals vainly seek below, 

" In earthly gew-gaws, and in princely state, 

" May here be found, if earth a heaven produce. 

" By contemplation led, we walk on high ; 

" And here by fond anticipation taste 

" That bliss, which virtue shall hereafter crown. 

" While Nature's laws direct the stariy world, 

" And mortals think they're wise if skill'd in these, 

" Let sages, more contemplative, unite, 

" To adorn mankind, the virtues to display, 

" Those stars, which glitter in the moral sky. 

" The voice of Nature is the voice of praise ; 

" Yon orbs but shine, our gratitude to raise." 

He ceas'd ; for admiration then began. 
And honoured with a tear the pride of man. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 15 



SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF BOWDOIN. 



"Pallida mors xquo pede pulsat pauperum tahernas, 
" Regumque turres." Hon. 4th ode, 1st book. 

Death's dread decrees must be obeyed ; 

Grim king, inexorably just ! 
That arm, which strikes the humble shed'i 

Levels the palace with the dust. 



{_WrittenFeb.^S,l7n.'\ 

i ALE is the mournful eye of setting day ; 

The gloomy fields in weeds of woe appear ; 
O'er the dim lawn dread horror bends his way, 

And solemn silence bids the mind revere. 

Beneath thick glooms the distant landscape fades ; * 
The sad moon weeps o'er yon funereal ground ; 

Hark ! the dull rippling stream tlie ear invades ; 
The soul, wild staring, startles at each sound ! 

What ghastly phantoms round me seem to rise ! 

With this just lecture on their tongues they come ; 
In yonder spot Fame's great colossus lies ; 

A BowDoiN moulders in the humble tomb !- 

HoAV short the fleeting hour assigned to man ! 

To Virtue's nobler charge the task is given, 
Beyond the grave to extend the narrow span, 

And gain a blest eternity in heaven. 



16 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Yes, 'tis a glorious truth, that man, refined 

From all the impurities of sordid clay, 
No more an exile on vile earth confined^ 

Shall shine amid the stars of endless day. 

Hark ! the sad voice of death, vi^ith solemn sound, 
Calls from their distant caves the sleeping gales ! 

The gales vi^ith sighs the avrful voice resound.,^ 
And tears of grief bedew the echoing vales. 

Across the fields see heavenly Virtue stray ; 

Philosophy, dejected at her side, 
And Love celestial bend their pensive vv^ay. 

And give free vent to grief's impetuous tide ! 

Mid the dai'k melancholy walks of death, 

Towards a stately monument they rove ; 
And hang on the tomb their votive wreath, 

A wreath with mmgled honours fondly wove.* 

From realms of pvirest happiness they flow. 

To adorn the grave where their dear votary slept ; 

The world they found suffused in tears of woe, 
And feeling for its loss in pity wept. 

Around the tomb the heavenly spirits stand, 

In all the plaintive eloquence of grief; 1 

" Here rest in peace, thou patriot of thy land, 

" Sage of the world, and Virtue's darling cliief I" 

'•' Let spring immortal o'er thy ashes bloom; 

" To tliee let earth the laurelled wreath resign ; 
" The ivy and the olive deck the tomb ; 

" For valour, eloquence, and peace were thine I" 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 17 

" Well may thy friends bedew thy hallowed urn, 

" Ambition weep, despaii'ing of thy fame ; 
" Well may thy comitry o'er thy relicks mourn, 

" And wondering earth immortalize tliy name." 

Weep o'er the grave, which Bowdoin's dust entombs ; 

In him such splendid traits their charms unite. 
Like the bright lamp, wliich heaven and earth illumes, 

He shone the sun of pliilosopliick light ! * 

In him the patriot virtues all combined j"* 
In him was Freedom's voice divinely heard ; 

Soft grace and energy adorned his mind, 
And constellated excellence appeared. 

How oft have senates on his accents hung. 

And viewed the blended powers of genius meet, 

In flowmg musick, melting from his tongue. 

Strong, without rage, and without flatteiy, sweet.^ 

When Massachusetts' patriot sages met,® 

To snatch from fate their country's falling name, 

His arm, like Jove's, upreared the sinkbig state, 
And raised a pillar in the dome of fame. 

His noble soul no selfish motive fired ; 

His country's glory was his godlike aim ; 
In danger prudent, resolute, admired ; 

And every action but enhanced his fame. 

Beneath his friendly wing the muses found 

A father, smiling on their infant lyre ; 
There Art and Science were with bovinty crowned, 

And Learning owned a Bowdoin for her sire. 
3 



18 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

In him rejoiced the sons of want and grief; 

From Mm the streams of social friendship ran ; 
With generous pity, and with kind relief, 

He traversed life in doing good to man. 

O'er life's broad sea he spread his full blown sail, 
Secure amid wild faction's stormy roar ; 

By wisdom guided, caught the flying gale, 
And gained the port, eternal glory's shore. 

Justly to celebrate his deathless praise, 

No muse, like ours, can string her grateful lyre ; 

-Nor even Pindar such bold notes could raise, 
Nor to the sun on waxen wings aspire. 

When in the field resistless Hector met. 

To express he conquered, we but say he fought ; 

Suffice it then the ear of fond regret. 

To tell that Bowdoin always nobly thought. 

Sprung from a race, to nought but virtue bom, 
Advanced by industry to pomp and state ; 

Yet he, beholding these with eyes of scorn. 
Rose above fame, and dared be truly great. 

Long have we hoped kind Temperance Avould wield, 
To gvxard her favourite, her defensive arms ; 

Around his honoured life would spread her shield, 
And long secure him by its potent charms. 

But, ah ! fallacious hopes ! Oh sweet deceit ! 

Dear, flattering dream, which partial Fancy wrought 
In Friendship's loom, who, witla fond pride elate ^ 

Viewed the rich texture of illusive thought ! 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 19 

Imperial Reason, weeping o'er his fate, ^ 

Hurled from her empire, rules his breast no more. 

Where is that voice, which saved a falling state, 

Which charmed the world, and taught e'en foes t' adore ? 

When wintiy time's tempestuous billows roar, 

O'er the dark storm Death spreads his horrid wings 5 

Swept are proud empires from the foaming shore. 
And beggars mingle in one grave with kings. 

Where are the splendours of the Attick dome ? 

Where haughty Carthage, towering to the sky ? 
Where the tall columns of imperial Rome ? 

In the vile dust, where pride is doomed to lie. 

BowDoiN, the glory and delight of all, 

The prince of science, Misery's feeling friend, 

Bedecked with blooming honours, too must fall, 
And to the mansions of the grave descend. 

Could human excellence, with power sublime. 
Charm from barbarian Death's destructive hand 

The ruthless scythe of all destroying Tune, 
BowDoiN were still the senate of tlie land. 

But greatly smiling in his latest breath, 

Like Phoebus blazing from his western throne, 

His soul, unconquered, through the clouds of death 
More radiant beamed, and more divinely shone. 

Ye mournful friends, suppress the bursting tear ; 

BowDoiN is gone his native skies to claim : 
Forgive the youth, who, weeping o'er his bier, 

In this fond verse inscribes his sacred name. 



2© COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



'Know then thyself; presume not God to scan; 
' The proper study of mankind is mar." 

Pope's Essay on Jffan, 



\_Written March 23, 1791.] 

JjLEST be the sage, whose voice has sung, 
And to the world such covmsel given ! 

Sure 'tis an angel's warning tongue, 
The language of benignant Heaven ! 

When first in Eden's roseate bowers, 
Gay, youthful Nature held her throne, 

Around her tripped the blithesome Hours, 
And all the Loves and Graces shone.' 

Celestial Virtue saw the dame, 

Enthroned amid her joyful band. 
And glowing with Aftection's flame. 

He blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand.' 

Struck with his tall, majestick form, 
His rosy cheek, his sparkling eye, 

Her breast received a strange alarm., 
And unsuppressed, retui-ned the sigh. 

At Hymen's shrine no vows are paid. 
For mutual love their hearts unites ; 

Carols were sung from every shade, 
And Eden echoed with delights,® 



V 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 21 

At length, their pleasures to complete, 

Fair Happiness their amours blest ; 
Gay was her form, her temper sweet. 

And mildest charms adorned her breast ; 

Mild as the bosom of the lake, 

When Zephyr from tlie western cave * 
Dares not the level chrystal break. 

And breathes a perfume o'er the wave. 

But joy on eagle pinions flies ; 

Thus oft in June's resplendent morn, 
When golden lustre paints the skies. 

Thick lowering clouds the heavens deform J 

Beneath the eaith's dark centre hurled, 

Where on their grating hinges groan 
The portals of the netlier world. 

Apostate Vice had raised her throne. 

A spirit of angelick birth ; 

But blemished now with blackest stains, 
Degraded far below the earth. 

To realms, where endless darkness reigns. 

Far from his ebon palace strayed 

This fiend to earth with giant pace ; 
His eyes a lurid frown displayed. 

And horror darkened all his face. 

Through Eden's shady scenes he roves ; 

A sweetly warbling voice he hears ; 
When, lo, beneath the distant groves, 

Nature in sportive dance appears ! 



32 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

He saw, he gazed with rapture warm, 
Resolved to gain the fair one's heart » 

His haggard, foul, disgusting form, 
He decks in all the charms of art 

His face, o'erclouded late with gloom, 
His limbs, in tattered garb arrayed, 

Assumed the flush of youthful bloom, 
The pomp of regal robes displayed. 

Dazzling with gems, a crown he bore ; 

'Twas grace his easy motions led ; 
A gentle smile his features wore. 

And round a sweet enchantment spread. 

From his smooth tongue sweet poison flowed ; ** 
Fair Innocence, her careless heart 

Decoyed, forsook her native road, 
Lost in the wilderness of art. 

Sad tears and bosom-rending sighs 

The mournful nymph pours forth in vain ; 

Vain are the streams of Sorrow's eyes, 
To wash away the ciimson stain. 

Hopeless she wandered and forlorn, 
In bitterest woe ; her plaintive tale 

Was heard, the echo of the laton^"^ 
And the sad ditty of each gale. 

While thus she roved in deep disgrace, 
Her bosom torn with conscious shame, 

An infant from the foul embrace 
Is born, and Misery is her name. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 23 



Her eyes emit a haggard glare ; 

Her mien a savage soul expressed 5 
With grim Medusa's snaky hair ; 

And all the father stood confessed. 

The groves, which once, in green array, 
The admiring eye attentive kept. 

No more appeared in verdure gay ; 
And Eden's fading beauties wept.^ 

Pale was the sun, with clouds obscure ; 

Wild Lamentation mourned in vain 
To cleanse the soul, with guilt impure, 

And reinstate the golden reign. 

Beauty 's a flower of early doom, 
Exposed to all the mtrigues of art ; 

For when is lost its tender bloom. 
The thorn is left, a bleeding heart. 

Triumphant Vice to his drear courts 
Returns to rule the infernal plains ; 

There Misery witli her sire resorts, 
To forge for man her torturing chains. 

But Virtue, to redeem the earth. 
In Eden opes his tranquil seats ; 

Asylum safe of injured worth. 

Here Happmess with him retreats I* 

Virtue and Vice, with clashing sway, 
The empire of the world divide ; 

Vice oft deludes the feet astray, 
But Virtue is the surest guide. 



24 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Vice, in whose form no grace is seen, 
Assumes detested Flattery's guise ; 

Veils in a smile her hideous mien, 
And captivates weak mortal eyes. 

While Viitue, in each beauty decked. 

In spotless purity arrayed. 
Our wandering footsteps would direct, 

But blinded man disdains his aid. 

Severe Experience soon will learn'' * 
The stubborn bosom to repent ; 

The opened eyes too late discern. 
What they must then in vain lament. 

But see a kind deliverer rise ! 

Her feeling breast Compassion warms, 
To purge this film from mortal eyes, 

And strip delusion of its charms. 

Behold Self-Knowledge quits the skies ! 

Ithuriel's magick spear she bears ; 
From her approach pale Error flies. 

And all tlie mind's dark host appears.' * 

Disrobed of all his borrowed plumes, 
Gay Vice no more the eye allures ; 

While Virtue's native lustre blooms, 
And with its charms the soul secures. 

The wreath of once triumphant Vice 
Now withers on his languid head ; 

No more his guiles the world entice. 
For, with his fraud, his charms are fled. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 25 

Ye, whose excursive souls pretend 

The Almighty's boundless power to scan ; 

Whose thoughts against the heavens contend. 
Nor stoop to earth to think on man ; 

Who, like the lion in his cave, 

Or eagle on liis rocky height, 
Witli swelling pride austerely grave, 

Frown modest Virtue from your sight ; 

Who proudly view with scornful eyes 

The tender scenes of social love ; 
Contemning Friendship's dearest ties ; 

The imps of self-dependent Jove ; 

Hear, learned fools : When life shall end, 

Like the light cinders of a scroll, 
Will stars or spheres from heaven descend, 

To comfort your desponding soul ? 

Virtue alone can smooth tlie brow . " 

Of haggard Death with smiles of joy; 
Persuasive lead the sons of woe 

To pleasures, which can never cloy. 

Be Virtue then by all caressed I 

Virtue the glooms of life will cheer j 
With eye impartial search thy breast, 

While Virtue lends a listenins: ear. 



26 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



"Homo sura,; human! nihil a me alienum puto." 

Terence, Heaut: 

I am a man, and interested in all the concerns of humanity. 
\_Written April 13, 1791.1 

x E, who enjoy the bliss of social ease, 
Who di-ink the sweets of Freedom's passing breeze, 
Taught by your fortune, learn, with generous mind, 
To soothe the woes, and feel for all mankind. 

While Pride's imperial sons in splendour vie, 
j^\nd with a meteor glare delude the eye ; 
While bold Ambition copes for deathless fame, 
That tinsel glitter of a glorious name ; 
Behold the generous soul, who feels for man, 
The great adherent to the Saviour's plan. 
In the dark cell of languid woe appear. 
And the sad heart with smiling bounty cheer ; 
Or in the cruel dungeon's dreary shade. 
Where stem Oppression fettered millions laid, 
Hear his mild voice amid the lurid gloom. 
Recall the fleeting spirit from the tomb ! 

Sweet are the pleasures, that from love arise ; 
Sweet the warm rapture, when, with eager eyes, 
And swelling with the gairish hopes of youth. 
Young genius springs to clasp a long sought trutli ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

But more extatick joys, those scenes impart, 
When flowing from a warm and grateful heai't. 
The sweet eulogiums of relieved distress 
The generous heart with pleasing transport bless. 
Hail, kind Philanthropy, thou friend of earth. 
Creation's mildest, fairest, noblest birth ! 
Bright are thy features, as the blush of even, 
And more complacent than the smile of heaven. 
Sweet is the musick, which thy voice distils, 
As the soft murmurs of the purling rills ; 
More gladly echoed through Misfortune's ear, 
Than tlie blithe carols of the vernal year. 
Benignant parent of the tear and sigh ! 
Heaven-bom Benevolence, whose gracious eye, 
By pity fired, the blandest smile bestows. 
That cheers this gloomy scene of mortal woes. 

When savage Nature her dominion kept, 
And each mild Virtue in oblivion slept, 
Then pale eyed Misery and Oppression rose, 
And plunged mankind adown the abyss of woes. 
Dire Rage and War around the nations strode. 
And Havock grimly smiled o'er seas of blood. 
The dearest ties of love were stained with gore, 
And Peace and Friendship ruled the woiid no more. 

The sprightly virgin in her tender bloomj 
Torn from her lover's ai'ms, by cruel doom, 
With tears of anguish, trickling from her eyes, 
O'er his dear marble bids the cypress rise. 



38 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Stript of the solace of their aching heaits, 
Those tender ties, which social love imparts. 
See hoary sires, around the funeral bier, 
In silent sorrow drop the mournful tear I 
Brutal barbarians, with stem pride elate, 
Tramplmg on every right of civil state ; 
Traitors to every law of gracious Heaven, 
By Nature's voice to all her children given ; 
Unfeeling monsters, tyranny their creed. 
Who never blushed bu^t at a virtuous deed. 
With wanton fury kept the world in awe ; 
Their sword was justice, and their nod was law= 

But, to relieve the miseries of man. 
Benevolence on earth her reign began. 
Of heavenly birth the virgin goddess shone. 
And all the virtues hovered romid her throne. 
But scarce the precepts of her friendly tongue, 
To hostile realms the sweets of peace had sung* 
And strove with warm persuasion to control 
The warring passions of each barbarous soul ; 
When, lo, a monster from his Stygian cave 
Laid the mild virgin in the silent grave. 
'Twas Persecution, whose dread right hand bore 
A flaming faulchion, wet with human gore. 
Detested Bigotry, (oh foul disgrace !) 
And blinded Ignorance, of monkish race. 
To this blood-thirsty, hellish fiend gave birth, 
Who with such miseries scourged the groaning earth. 
Cursed be the bigot, whose religious light 
Comes through the medium of a jaundiced sight I 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 29 

Lo, Superstition fills the papal throne, 
And guiltless victims at her footstool groan ! 
Lo, Death proscribes each disbeliever's head ; 
See, on the rock their toitured limbs are spread ; 
Their strained nerves tremble to each mangling blow ; 
Hark, the soul-piercing shrieks of dying woe ! 
Stroke follows stroke until they move no more, 
And streams of blood gush out from every pore= 

Yet in the storm of this tempestuous time, 
When Superstition fostered every ci-ime ; 
When servile priests pronomiced with impious tongue, 
Nor understood the jargon which they sung ; 
When Romish bigots, who made nations bleed, 
Knew not the letters, which composed their creed ; 
E'en then, in Albion's soil, a glorious few. 
To virtue's cause, to freedom's interest true, 
With anxious toil presei'ved from total night 
Mild toleration's feebly glimmering light. 
But short, alas, her empire in the land, 
Where factious nobles bear supreme command i 

As the faint splendour of the solar beam, 
When vapovirs intercept the golden stream, 
Emits through thin, transparent clouds a blaze. 
Which on some distant spire in triumph plays ; 
But while the eye admires tlie partial ray, 
The pale and watery lustre melts away ; 
Thus transient, all the milder virtues fled, 
And kind Compassion veiled her tender head, 
Till true Religion, with that magick power, 
Which bade old Ocean's billows cease to roar. 



30 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Benevolence raised fi'om her mouldering tomb, 
And bade new laurels on her brow to bloom. 

All hail, Columbia ; to thy western skies, 
Where sacred Freedom's lofty temples rise, 
The virgin goddess bends her azure flight, 
On the fleet pinions of diffusive light ! 
She comes, with love's fervescent rays t' illume 
The vale of woe, and cheer its awful gloom ; 
To snatch mankind from the cold arms of Death, 
And reinspire with being's transient breath. 

But, ah ! will ye, who fought in Freedom's cause, 
To die in battle, or defend her laws ; 
Will ye, when Fortune has your efforts crowned, 
And deathless laurels round your temples bound ; 
Will ye, such bold achievements now disgrace. 
Nor grant your freedom to all human race ? 
Shall the poor Africk blot your rising fame, 
And sue for freedom with neglected claim ? 
In the dark cell, where anguish turns with pain 
His tortured limbs, indented with the chain, 
' See ^Ethiopia's sons, because the day 
Upon their skin has glanced too warm a ray 
From social joy, from their dear native land, 
By Fraud's ungenerous ai'tifice trepaimed. 
Far to the west o'er swelling surges borne, 
In slavish toil a life of woe to mourn ! 
Blush, blush, vile despots, who, for lucre's sake, 
Through every natural bond of freedom break ! 
Although with honour crowned, Columbia's name 
May sound eternal through the trump of Fame ; 



, COLLEGE EXERCISES. 31 

Though shouting millions her new system boast, 

By Solons planned, t' unite her jarring host ; 

Yet while the Africk clanks Oppression's chain. 

And these unfeeling, brutal tyrants reign, 

Though decked with all the splendid charms of state, 

Her blemished character can ne'er be great. 

Hail glorious xra, when the genial rays 
Of mild Philanthropy in one broad blaze 
Shall round the world benignant lustre dart, 
And warm the haughty tyrant's frozen heart, 
When Africk's millions shall to freedom rise, 
And with loud rapture rend the yielding skies ; 
Columbia's eagle then, Avith wings unfurled. 
Shall shadow with its plumes the subject world. 



The following lines are from a theme, partly in prose and partly in verse, ori 
"Humaaum est errare." 



[_JVritten .liigitst 24, 1791.] 

V ICE lives coeval with the age of time, ' 

A Syren form, enchantress half divine.* 

Before yon sun, in youthful splendour clad. 

Illumed with sportive beams the new-bom earth ; 

Before the planets round their reverend sire 

Through Heaven's wide plains performed their mystick dance 

Even then among the sapphire thrones of God, 

Skilled in Egyptian herbs ^id magick lore. 



i32 COLLEGE EXER«"lSfiS. 

The nymph bewitching came ; her tuneful voice, 

Sweet warbling, drew the thronging seraphs round ; 

And while they seemed delighted with the song, 

The artful traitress, with Circassian smile, 

Gave the full bowl of poison to their lips ; 

They quaffed ; and soon perceived its magick power 

Invade, inveigle, and subdue their souls. 

Thus by her perfidy betrayed, they fell 
Down the dark dungeon of Almighty wrath, 
Where flames sulphureous flash a livid glare, 
And ravenous vultures on their vitals prey. 
Which undiminished grow, nor aught consume j 
Thus an eternity of years to groan, 
Cursing in penal fire the treacherous wretch, 
Who led their daring spirits to rebel. 

When thus her power innumei'ous saints subdued, 
To earth she came, and in the breast of man 
Instilling poison sweet, and lawless wish 
To rob the central tree of Paradise, 
Drove him, an exile from the realms of joy. 
O'er earth's wide plains, inhospitable wilds, 
Where crags menace defiance to the sky; 
Through forests, deepened with Carpathian gloom. 
Where midnight deaths in secret ambush lie ; 
O'er scenes like these, with Providence his guide. 
He roamed unfriended, hopeless and forlorn ; 
In contemplation sad of follies past ; 
Lamenting oft, in bitterness of soul, 
The fatal taste of the forbidden tree. 
Without the embellishments and aid of art, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. , 3^ 

The earth exhibited a dreary watete. 
No lofty cities, then, with glittering spires 
And massy walls of mountain rocks composed, 
Reared their tall turrets, and witli Atlas vied, 
Who should sustain the starry vault of heaven. 
No rural hamlet, then, with peaceful shades, 
And groves in verdure of perennial bloom> 
Oft kissed with rapture by the sportive gale, 
Courted the wretched traveller's weary feet 
To the sweet blessings of a frugal board. 
'Twas his to wander mid tenebrious wilds, 
Where deeply grave, majestick Horror reigns ; 
Where savage beasts so fiercely yell and roar, 
That Sol, affrighted at the dismal sound, 
Ne'er dared to dart withm the dreary scene 
A single ray to dissipate the shade. 
Such were the horrors of his vagrant path. 
And such the woes, which disobedience brought ; 
Through all his race the dire contagion ran ; 
Disease and want and treachery filled the earth. 

What rending grief must wound our parent's breast. 
When erst from Paradise his feet were driven ; 
What heart-felt torture must his bosom sting, 
Then to reflect, that, for his fault alone, 
Ages of ages of his sons unborn 
Should suffer all the pangs of guilt and woe. 
Hear the dire curse, which his own follies wrought. 
And feel the lash of wrath, which he provoked. 

Perhaps, elate on Fancy's daring wing, 
^or she with wretched mourners is a guest) 
5 



34^ COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

He oft beheld on life's tempestuous tide^ 

His offspring struggling with the adverse surge^ 

Wrecked on adversity's Charybdian coast ; 

Now borne aloft upon the swelling surge, 

Now plunging headlong down the dark abyss, 

Where boiling quicksands rave with madding foam. 

And pour through parting waves their oozy surf ; 

Where sea-green caves, like sepulchres appear, 

To catch the spirit, fainting with fatigue. 

While raging seas in mad rebellion rise. 

And rocks and winds and bellowing oceans war ; 

While daring surges lift their heads to heaven, 

Loud thunders, bursting with tremendous roar, 

Roll through tlie quaking sky their muttering wrath p 

The hapless strugglers on the briny deep, 

Each effort vain, and whelmed in dark despair, 

Their eyes erect to heaven with languid look, 

Upbraid the parent, author of their woes, 

And, cursing Adam, sink to rise no more. 

Such were perhaps the scenes, our common Sire 

With self-accusing fancy sadly drew '^ 

And with the bitterest grief, that mortals feel. 

Bemoaned the deed irrevocably cursed. 

Cease, tender parent, thy invective plaint ; 
No more thy breast with lamentations wound ; 
Oh, wipe the dark suspicion from thy soul, 
That e'er thy race could with ungenerous voice 
Pronounce a curse upon thy reverend head ! 
Sooner shall Winter in his frigid arms 
Embrace the blooming Spring, the type of heaven j- 
Sooner the turtle, when the parent dove 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. .3^ 

Has built her nest in insalubrious spot, 
Oft ravaged by the fierce rapacious foe, 
Forget the author of its tender life, 
And cease to coo the haa'mless notes of love. 

Long as the blue-waved seas, in lucid lapse, 
Shall roll majestick through the cavemed earth ; 
Long as the year shall blossom with the spring., 
With summer ripen, and with autumn yield j 
Long as the sun, tlie powerful king of day. 
Shall ride triumphant in his car of light ; 
Till Nature's self shall droop with hoary age, 
And sleep, low mouldering, in her silent tomb, 
Fonned of the mighty wrecks of falling worlds ; 
Till then thy name shall pervagrate the earth, 
Herald of Love, and monitor of Heaven- 



These lines are wiAout date, but as they appear in the band Mr- Paine wrote* 
at that time, they were, probably, produced in his junior year | perhapsj 
however, as the manuscript is a fair and second copy, they are of earlier 
(H-Jgin. 



ON SENSIBILITY. 

OPRiGHTLY and gay as lovt, as pure as truth. 
The soul of beauty, and the pride of youth. 
Demands my song ; while my infantine muse 
On waving wing, the heaven-bom theme pursues. 



35 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

No tuneful choir, who haunt Pieria's shade. 
Do I invoke to lend their sacred aid ; 
My muse would beg alone Maria's smile, 
To inspire her numbers and reward her toil, 
And proud I'll feel, if Mary's hand bestow 
Her favourite myrtle on my honoured brow. 

When first mankind obeyed tyrannick sAvay, 
The softer virtues in oblivion lay ; 
Then pale Affliction with her iron rod, 
And Carnage dire around the nations strode. 
Man sunk to vile debasement's lowest grade, 
And lived " with beasts joint tenants of the shade.'* 
That fond endearing love which Nature formed, 
Which once each breast to social friendship warmed, 
Which once to generous deeds the world inspired, 
To deeds which listening ages have admired. 
No more prevailed, but lust, reveiige and ire, 
With brutal fury set the world on fire. 
Tyrants and kings their lawless empire spread, 
And from the sanguine earth the Virtues fled, 
Though whelmed in woe and misery severe. 
Such as e'en Nero must have wept to hear ; 
Though torn from all the objects of their love, 
By dread seclusion, by a long remove ; 
Yet such was man's degenerate groveling state, 
He added torture to the wounds of fate. 
The generous fervour of the social flame 
Was now unknown, or only known in name. 
Pale-^eyed Despair now raised her ebon throne? 
A^nd pity kaev/ no sorrows but her mm<. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Without a friend to calm his throbbing heart, 
And from his breast to wrench Misfortune's davt^ 
Each in himself beheld his last resort, 
Too weak, too frail his sorrow to support ; 
No generous tear bemoaned another's grief, 
No friendly sympathy bestowed relief; 
Tyrants beheld their easy victims fall, 
And one wide common grave threat death to all. 
But, to relieve the miseries of man, 
.Sweet Sensibility her reign began ; 
Beneath the mildness of her gentle reign. 
The smiling virtues blessed the earth again ; 
Candour and Friendship, sweet ethereal pair, 
Dispelled the lurid clouds of dark despair ; 
Those realms, which in tlie shades of darkness lay, 
Shut from the light of learning's splendid day, 
Or in the vale of misery, distressed 
With every woe, that grieves a mortal breast, 
With heart-felt joy perceived Compassion near, 
From Sorrow's eye to wipe her bursting tear, 
And mid the dungeon's insalubrious gloom, 
Beheld the rose of consolation bloom. 
Sweet Sensibility, pure is thy sway, 
As the clear splendours of Hesperian day ; 
Bright is thy form, as when the clouds of even, 
Enchase with flaming gold tlic azure heaven ; 
Soft is thy bosom, as the silver waves. 
When gentle zephyrs, from their western caves, 
Breathe a mild perfume o'er the rippling stream, 
Which smiles effulgent in the solar beam. 
Prompt is this breast, the wretched to release. 
To allay his suffering with the voice of peace j 



38 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

'thy love unbounded, as the boundless day, 

Glows with the warmth of summer's noontide ray ; 

From thy kind tongue the sweetest honey flows, 

To soothe the anguish of our bitterest woes. 

When the dread king of terrors' ruthless dart,. 

Arrests a fond companion's bleeding heart, 

And rifles youth of all his vernal bloom, 

And lays the aged in the mouldermg tomb ; 

When weeping virgins mourn a tender mate, 

The hapless victim of a cruel fate ; 

When youthful lovers o'er their fair one's grave, 

The funeral turf with briny sorrows lave ; 

When Hope no longer cheers their streaming eyesy, 

And drear despair's impervious clouds axise ; 

Then, Sensibility, thy poAver is known. 

Thou never leav'st the wretch to weep alone. 

With mild Persuasion's gently pleasing strain, 

You love to ease his bosom-rending pain, 

And, while the mourner lends a patient ear, 

You answer sigh for sigh, and tear for tear ; 

Till, by the magick sympathy of woe. 

His wounds are healed, his sorrows cease to flow ! 

Hail, Sensibility ! thou soul of love, 

'Tis thine the various scenes of bliss to prove ; 

The tear, we shed upon another's grief,| 

The woes, we suffer for our friend's relief, 

Afford more pleasure to the feeling heart, 

Than all the pomp and pride of wealth impart ! 

The silken sons of luxury and ease, 

With vain magmficence, the crowd may please ; 

The chief, victorious, quits the embattled ground, 

The blood-stained laurels round his temples bound j 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 59 

The marble bust may tell to future age, 

Some glorious villain on the present stage I 

But what are riches, but an empty name ? 

And what is glory, but the toy of fame ? 

What is the mighty laurel, gained in fight ? 

To this the private murderer has a right 

Envy, the brightest character may rust ; 

The loftiest monuments are laid in dust,; 

Lo, brazen statues moulder and decay, 

And hoary Time sweeps all the world away ! 

Then, where is glory, where the proud and great? 

Where is the tyrant with his pomp and state ? 

Beggars and kings are destined to one grave ; 

Death deals alike to monarch and to slave. 

Then learn, O man, to traverse out the year 

Of fleeting life, which Heaven has lent thee here. 

Be prompt to offer, with a kind relief. 

The friendly pillow for the sons of grief. 

Let feeling sympathy for every woe, 

Which groaning mortals suffer here below, 

Let Sensibility with heavenly fire. 

With generous charity, thy soul inspire j 

That, when pale Death this dreary scene shall ciosc; 

Millions may shout thee from this world of Avoes. 

This is the noblest monument of praise. 

Which human excellence on earth can raise ; 

This is the trophy, which with power sublime 

Shall baffle all the wrath of hoary time. 

But why, my muse, dost thou with daring whig? 

Attempt so great, so bold a theme to sing ? 

Lo ! in Amelia's breast the charms you tell 

In sweet complacence and perfection dwell i 



40 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Maria, too, the feeling throb has known ; 
There Sensibility erects her throne. 
Though beauty deck the fair external form 
With all the elegance of every charm ; 
Though sense and virtue in the soul combine, 
And like the stars in bright resplendence shine 
If Sensibility, that lovely guest, 
Should prove a stranger to the virgin breast, 
Beauty and sense and virtue must appear 
But sounding names, which only fops revere ; 
Like some fair image, which the mimick strife 
Of Sculpture's hand has made resembling life, 
Which wants that nervous vigour to acquire, 
That spreads through every limb the vital fire j 
But Sensibility, the queen of grace, 
Soft, as Amelia's sweetly blooming face, 
From every stain the heavy soul refines, 
And with a smile in every feature shines ; 
To every charm a milder beauty lends, 
The fairest form with fairer tints amends; 
A gentle mildness to the bi'east imparts, 
Attracts, enchants and captivates our hearts j 
Sprightly and gay as love, as pure as truth, 
The soul of beauty, and the pride of youth.. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 41 



A PASTORAL« 

l_Wntten Jlpril 10, 1790.] 

X HE shades of night with sleep had fled away ; 

Heaven's rising scale now flamed with new-born day ; 

Now fragrant roses plumed the crest of dawn, 

And tears of joy arrayed the smiling lawn ; 

The early villagers had left their beds, 

And with their flocks had whitened all the ?neads. 

Beneath the emboweruig covert of a grove, 
Whose blooining bosom courts the smiles of love, 
Melodious songsters tuned their warbling strains. 
And charmed the satyrs and admiring swains. 
So soft their notes, that Echo silent hung, 
And Zephyr ceased to breathe, to hear the sonff ; 
Shepherds, to join the tuneful war, forsook 
Their native shade and left tlieir peaceful crook ; 
The choral song awaked each rising day. 
And larks forgot to sing their matin lay. 

Long had young Corydon, outvied by none. 
The ivy wreath from all his rivals won ; 
Till, from a mountain's side, whose lofty brow 
Whitens with pride, and spurns the plams below. 
Young Damon, versed in polished numbers, catne, 
And claimed the laurel of Aoniain fame, 
6 



42 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

No sooner morn had cheered the skies with light, 
And modest fields blushed from the embrace of night, 
Than Corydon and Damon sung their loves, 
And the sweet notes breathed softly through the groves, 

DAMON. 

Hark ! hqjv the birds from every blossom sing, 
■^ And early linnets hail the purple spring I 
Melodious notes ascend from every spray, 
And vocal forests wake the dawning day ; 
Spring trips the meads, and opes the sky serene, 
And gentle breezes cool the pleasing scene. 
When one soft chorus purls from crystal streams, 
Tunes Nature's harp and murmurs joyful hymns ; 
Why sit we idle, when all nature's gay. 
And lively Fancy gilds the morning ray ? 

CORYDON. 

Our flocks together graze the flowery plain j 
Sing then, while I attentive hear the strain : 
But let no mournful song your voice employ ; 
Spring's florid pencil paints no scenes but joy= 
No stake I offer, for a bribe can fire 
No minds, but such as vulgar thoughts inspire. 
Begin the song, for now the crocus glows. 
And toiling bees explore the flagrant rose. 

DAMON. 

Ye Mantuan daughters, leave your cooling shades. 
Where lavish Science all her flowerets spreads } 
Come with your needed aid, inspire my lays. 
And fill the grove with fair Myrtilla's praise. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 43 

CORYBON. 

Come then, great Worth, and teach me how to glow. 
And with thy sweetness teach my verse to flow. 
Come, my Constantia, and inspire my lays, 
For thou alone sing'st equal to thy praise. 

DAMON. 

Ye vernal gales, who fanned the ambrosial grove. 
Where first Myrtilla crowned my sighs with love. 
On your soft wings let Damon's numbers float ; 
Ye feathered songsters, swell the echoing note ; 
Trees, whisper praises, and ye meads, look gay, 
For fair Myitilla warms the amorous lay. 
When flaming Sirius robed ApoUos' brov/, 
With fiercer heat and scorched the world below, 
I saw the fair one, rambling o'er the meads ; 
The drooping v/illows reared their mournful heads. 
The fainting birds again began to sing. 
And smiling Nature fondly thought 'twas spring. 
Not chaste Dictinna with her silver train 
Appeared so graceful, or could cause such pain. 
With eyes and feet averse she fled the green, 
A>nd turned to see if she had fled unseen. 

CORYDON. 

Here Spring's gay lap once poured forth all its stores-, 

And Joy's soft breezes winged the rolling hours. 

The brightening landscapes swelled with teeming graifi. 

And smiling Ceres plumed the floating plain. 

But now no more these rural scenes delight. 

Nor flowery prospects glad our raptured sight. 



44 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Constantia's gone ; Spring paints the blooming meads^^ 
But to confess, how she, without her, Jades. 
The noisy town attracts the fair one's eye, 
To seek the pleasures of a milder sky. 
Then droop, ye flowerets, for Constantia's gone, 
And joy no more shall glitter on the thorn. 
The bees may well forget their waxen store, 
And beauteous nature smile in spring no more. 
No more Arabian gales their odours shed. 
Beauty and sweetness with Constantia's fled. 
Elegiack ditties chant o'er Spring's sad urn, 
-" And Philomel shall teach the woods to mourn. 
The eve comes on, in solemn brown arrayed, 
And weeps in dews that fair Constantia's /led. 
Nectarean streams the oak forgets to yield. 
And lurking tares o'errun the uncultured field. 
The gales are taught to sigh ; the waving reed 
Trembles the ditty to the mournful mead. 

DAMON. 

The Muses haunt Parnassus' cooling groves, 
And blooming Paphos courts the smiles and loves ; 
But if Myrtilla shall prefer the plain, 
Here Venus smiles, and here the Muses reign, 

eoRYDaN. 
In spring the open lawn delights the eye, 
And cooling groves, Avhen Sirius fires the sky ; 
When Autumn purples o'er the fruitful field. 
To pluck the fruits which trees luxuriant yield ; 
But in my heart one constant passion glows ; 
My love-sick breast none but Constantia knows- 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 45 

Come, visit then, my fair, the enamelled mead ; 

For thee the myrtle weaves its friendly shade. 

Here crystal streams meander through the grove, 

And every zephyr wafts the strains of love. 

Come, lovely maid, more beauteous, than the mom, 

And with your smiles these sylvan scenes adorn. 

Though spring's return hath damasked o'er the field, 

And in the rose her gayest plumes revealed, 

Nature, to gain her own, must speak your praise, 

She in your blush a fairer rose displays. 

Come, my Constantia, leave the busy town, 

And teach another Eden here to bloom. 

To thee the feathered choir devote their lays. 

And warble lavish musick in your praise. 

When with your lyre you swell melodious songs, 

E'en Orpheus owns to thee the wreath belongs. 

The wolf shall fawn at thy soft tale of love, 

And amorous trees shall crowd into a grove. 

At thy return, the rose shall bloom again, 

And breathe new fragrance o'er the joyful plain. 

Autumn's rich cup shall pour its blissful stream. 

And joy's bright nectar overlook the brim. 

But, hark ! yon hills resound a pleasing theme. 

And frisking lambkins gambol to the hymn. 

In vain, ye gales, that cool meridian heats, 

Ye stx'ive to liide from whence you stole your sweets. 

Constantia comes ; at that revered name, 

Tygers forget to rage, and wolves groAV tame. 

DAMON. 

To you the palm I yield ; yours be the praise, 
For 'tis Constantia, shines throughout your lav^i. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

Hail, queen of Muses ! now the tuneful Nine 
Shall court thy smile, and in your praise combine. 
But, hark ! the plains the pleasmg name resound ; 
Constantia's come, tunes all the vocal ground, 
While' her bright charms such joyful smiles difFuSC, 
To speak her worth, let silence hush the muse. 
To give the fair her meritorious praise. 
Numbers would fail, and sound itself must cease 



These verses make the conclusion of a forensiek disputation in the chapel at 
Cambridge University, on the qtiestion, " Whetlier learning be conducive to 
the happiness of man." The manuscript shows no date, but the hand writing 
and the nature of the exercise refer the lines to his junior or senior year. 



J. HE unweeting swain, while Nature round him spreads? 

Her rich luxuriance o'er the fertile meads, 

By custom forced, assumes his native plough. 

And feels no pleasures, but from labour flow. 

But where proud Learning pours her golden blaze. 

The curioits eye the wondrous world surveys j 

Sees thousand beauties pairit the cheek of day, 

And all Elysium glitter from a spray ; 

Sees craggy mountains rear their daring throne, 

While suppliant vales the sovereign monarch own. 

While gay confusion decks the varying scene. 

What floods of glory burst from Heaven's bright mien. 

What glittering gems adorn the crown of night ; 

The mind is lost in regions of delight ! 

Here rolls majestick, Dian's silver car ; 

Here heaven stooped down to embrace her brightest -star^ 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 47 

When Newton rose, sublimely great, from earth, 
And boldly spoke whole systems mto birth. 
Around the walls of heaven the planets roll, 
And her resplendent pavements gild the pole. 
Behold the son of wisdom joyful rise, 
And wing his native element the skies ; 
See him, rejoicing, leave this mean abode, 
And lost in rapture 'mid -the thrones of God, 
Unnumbered pleasures swell his heaving breast ; 
Words are too feeble, silence speaks the rest ! 



THE REFINEMEN.T OF MANNERS 



PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 



An Exhibition Poem, delivered in the chapel of Harvard LTniversity, Sep- 
tember 27, 1791. 



The natural world, by Heaven's stupendous plan, 

Is formed an emblem of the life of man. 

Vain is the wish, that Spring's Favonian reign. 

With Autumn's golden stores, should ci'ovni the plain : 

And vain the hope, in life's first dawn, to find 

Those nerves of thought, that grace the ripened mind. 

Nature, too proud in one poor garb to appear. 

Varies her livery with the varying year. 

Her laws, unchanged by Time's insidious power, 

Wnravel centuries or revolve an hour ; 



48 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Her stated order, to the seasons given, 
Rolls round with equal ease the stars of heaven. 
Clothed from the wardrobe, blooms the roseate spring, 
And warbling birds and harmless poets sing. 
Prompted by her, the Muse, with doating eyes, 
Beholds her callow plumes, and pants to rise ; 
With half-formed hopes, and fears ne'er felt before, 
She spreads her fluttei-ing wings, but di'eads to soar. 
, But while old Autumn, on the fertile plain, 
Totters and groans beneath the weight of grain ; 
While grateful peasants reap the bearded ear, 
And golden Plenty crowns the fading year j 
While Harvard's sons, whom Fame with smiles surveys. 
Throng to the harvest of their well-earned praise ; 
May not the Muse, ambitious of a name. 
Put in her sickle for one " sheaf" of fame ? 

Far from Pieria's sacred stream remote. 
On half-strung lyre, she tunes her lisping note ; 
The rise of manners from their fount to trace, 
From savage life, transformed, to social grace ; 
Till the rough diamond of the human mind, 
By care assiduous, and by skill refined, 
> From all the blemish of its native stone, 
In varied beams of polished brilliance shone. 
This be her theme, and should her numbers fail. 
So great a theme will prove a friendly veil. 

The mind of man by gradual rise improves ; 
Ambition's noblest spring his bosom moves. 
This prompts the soul with ardour to excel, 
In thinking rightly or in acting well ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 49 

But when dark clouds the savage mmd o'erspread, 
Refinement droops, and Friendship's self is dead. 
No more bright Reason in her zenith shines ; 
Down to the west the mental sun declines ; 
And sunk to vile debasement's lowest grade, 
Man lives " with beast, joint tenant of the shade." 

Created life was formed for some great end ; 
A centre must be, where its motions tend. 
As high as heaven its azure arch sustains. 
Deep as the gloom, where dreary Chaos reigns, 
Sublimely awful, and immensely great. 
Is raised the firm, perennial wall of fate ; 
On the dark frontiers of creation laid, 
Where boundless space extends a rayless shade. 
Here Time's destroying arm in vain has strove, 
The mighty fabrick from its base to move ; 
Here angels too, rebellious sons of light. 
Once rose in arms to raze the bounds of night ; 
The solid rock resists their raging power, 
The battering Aries, and the thundering ore ; 
Against the wall their harmless weapons break ; 
What God has raised, not earth and heaven can shake. 

Two mighty barriers bound this transient span, 
Barriers, too lofty for the stride of man ; 
Lucina here, sits smiling at his birth, 
There Death, triumphant o'er the bleeding earth. 
Lo ! on the cradle's down the infant sleeps ; 
Lo ! on its urn the tender parent weeps ! 
No human force can brave the assaults of age ; 
No strength of mind can shield the hoary sage ; 
7 



^0 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

The world is swept by time's impetuous wave. 
And man floats downward to the common grave^ 

To fill this fleetmg hour, this narrow space, 
With actions, worthy an immortal race ; 
To teach the rapid moments, as they fly, 
Beyond the utmost ken of mortal eye. 
To assume the smile of Virtue's placid mien ; 
With social pleasures sweeten every scene ; 
, To form the manners, quell proud War's alarms, 
And, wide extendmg Friendship's open arms, 
With generous love to clasp in one embrace 
The mighty household of the human race ; 
This is the task, the pleasing task of man ; 
The great perfection of Jehovah's plan ; 
Tliis is the gate to Paradise below, 
A safe asylum from each mortal woe. 

Morals, like ore extracted from the mine, 
Though crude at first, by ait are taught to shine. 
These to a nation a complexion give. 
With these republicks fall, with these they live. 
Nations with these in civil power increase. 
In strength of war and all the sweets of peace. 
To these the softer arts their polish owe. 
From this vast fount the streams of science flow. 
Here law and justice mutual sources find. 
And hence the virtues, that adorn mankind. 

But statesmen still o'erlook this mighty cause, 
.And modern Dracos trump their penal laws ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 51 

With lordly edicts rule a groaning state, 

And trust that laws will humble souls create ; 

And, lest old Time should spy such gross defects, 

Inverting nature, causes name effects. 

When souls depraved the curule chair obtain, 

And through the realm, the same great evils reign, 

Can feeble laws the publick heart reform, 

Exalt the morals and avert the storm ? 

Behold on high the amber tide of day, 

Which rolls refulgent from the solar ray ; 

Rivers from springs, and seas from rivers flow ; 

From humble shrubs majestick forests grow ; 

The rising manners of an infant state 

Will be the parent of its future fate. 

These, like the living current of the heart, 

Through every breast their vital influence dart ; 

Brace every nerve and man the dauntless soul. 

Preserve each member and support the whole. 

But when dread Vice, with her infectious stains, 

Pollutes the blood, that warms the publick veins, 

Corrosive poisons through the vitals roll. 

Impair their vigour, and corrupt the soul. 

Vice clogs the channels of the sanguine tide ; 

Virtue refines and bids the currents glide ; 

These arm with strength, or shrink the trembling nerve. 

Destroy the body, or in health preserve. 

Years have on years, on ages ages rolled. 
But each new sun the same great truth has told ; 
That morals still a nation's fate comprise, 
Smk to the earth, or lift it to the skies ; 



52 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

These swell the page experience has unfurled, 
Exalt a throne, or crush a falling world ; 
Then hear, O Earth ; with shouts applausive own 
The voice of Time, through History's clarion blown ! 

When savage Nature her dominion kept, 
And each mild Virtue in oblivion slept ; 
To scourge mankind a group of monsters rose, 
And headlong plunged them down the abyss of woes. 
Through barbarous hordes, dire War and Horror strode, 
And Havock grimly smiled o'er seas of blood. 
The dearest scenes of love were stained with gore, 
And Peace and Friendship ruled the world no more. 

Ferocious clans, whom natural wants provoke, 
Whose necks ne'er groaned beneath a galling yoke. 
Armed for the horrors of inhuman strife, 
Aim the deep wound, and plunge the deadly knife. 
Winged by the sweeping gale, their feet resound, 
And scarcely print a vestige on the ground ; 
The dews, that glisten on the spiry grass, 
Forget their dread, nor tremble as they pass ; 
Heaven's rapid steeds, the mighty winds submit, 
And own the swifter motions of their feet. 
Not with such fury drives the rattling hail, 
As when these weapons fill the sounding gale ; 
O'er floods, o'er hills, their savage vengeance flies, 
Like ocean storms, and lightens like the skies. 
No fear of death their dauntless souls deplore ; 
Death is a friend when glory is no more. 
Their thundering arms in victory's dazzling car^ 
Waged with the world a predatory war ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 53 

And, with whole rivers of fraternal gore, 
Swelled ocean's waves to heights unknown before. 
They followed conquest, where their sachems led, 
And clinmbed to fanae o'er mountains of the dead. 

Still rose unfelled the forest's towering oak ; 
The plough was then unknown ; miknown the yoke. 
The soil uncultured gave no harvest birth ; 
Unlocked remained the granary of tlie earth. 

The human soul, in this unpolished state, 
Lay all benighted in the clouds of fate. 
Unskilled in useful and instructive art, 
A blinded frenzy raved in every heart. 
No friendly scene then charmed the smiling eye ; 
No heart exulted in the social tie. 
By wants surrounded, and to slaughter driven. 
Lost was each semblance of the parent heaven. 
Compared to man m this ferocious age. 
Enthralled in darkness and unbridled rage, 
Tygers no more a savage nature claim. 
And howling wolves in all their wrath are tame ; 
E'en the fierce lion in his horrid den 
Seemed a civilian to the monsters, men. 

Such were the scenes, which savage ages saAv, 
When brutal frenzy waged fraternal war ; 
Nor modem days from these exemption claim ; 
Oh ! Europe, blush, for thou hast seen the same ! 

Where sullen Russia's frownmg turrets rise, 
Bare to the fury of the northern skies, 



54 ^ COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Suspicion, Cruelty, Revenge resort, 
The privy council of a tyrant's court. 
At their dread bar a guiltless virgin led, 
Fell on the shrine, whei^e many a saint had bled; 
Mild, as the evening, as the noon day, bright, 
Pure and unblemished, as the stars of light. 
The primrose, blushing on the fragrant heath, 
Appeared a poppy to her sweeter breath ; 
The lily's self was blackness to her skin, 
It shone reflected from her soul within. 
While the full tear hung glistening in her eye, 
♦The tyrant's voice decreed her fate, — to die ! 
Death at the sound his savage office cursed, 
And scarce had heart to execute his trust, 

Lo ! now the virgin to the scaffold led, 
A sweet complacence o'er her features spread 1 
The mmisters of death, though old in blood, 
Lost in surprise, in silent wonder, stood ; 
While she, too fair, too pure for Slander's breatli, 
Serenely smiled, and hailed the approach of death. 
The moment came ; on Fate's slow wheel it run ; 
Time saw, and dropped a tear, and rolled it on ! 
The moment came, and Death's barbarian crew 
The snow-white mantle from her bosom dreM^ 
Pale Fear with many a throb her bosom swelled, 
And Hope, our last, our dearest friend, repelled. 
Her cheek, v/hich once of Parian marble shone, 
Formed of the lily, and the rose full blown, 
J^ow seemed a morning sky, with blushes spread., 
Where trickling tears a glistening radiance shed ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 55 

While Modesty averts her bashful eye ; 

The sight would tempt an angel from tlie sky. 

Now to the post her tender wrists are bound ; 
With cruel chains her body lashed around. 
Her tears, her shrieks no hardened breast inspired ; 
No bosom throbbed ; and Pity's self expired. 

" I die," the virgin cries, " without a stam ; 
" Guiltless I die, by dark injustice slain 1" 

Stung to the quick, lo ! brutal Torture raves > 
With foaming rage her ii'on cordage waves ! 
Her vengeful arm the horrid knout displays. 
And, as exposed the virgin's bosom lays. 
With mangling blows provokes the spouting gore, 
While tears unseen, and shrieks unheard deplore ; 
Redoubled strokes the quivering members tear, 
Strip off the flesh, and lay the vitals bare ! 
Ye Heavens I why sleeps the thunder in the sky ? 
Speak but the word. Barbarity shall die ! 
Being's great wheel revolves, and now deranged, 
Lo ! man and brute their rank have interchanged 1 
A sight so moving, bids no pangs arise 
In man's hard breast ; he views with smiling eyes ; 
While savage beasts in sympathy appear, 
And roll in silent grief the gushing tear. 
Rocks strive in vain their pity to conceal, 
And, spite of nature, leam for once to feeL 
E'en Heaven itself, when it from liigh beheld 
^A nymph, whose form her soul alone excelled. 



S6 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Bear all the pangs, that Torture could bestow, 
Dropped down a gracious tear to end her woe ; 
The tear descended from the world above, 
From that pure region of eternal love, 
Down to the blood-stained page of mortal life, 
Where glared in crimson hate, revenge, and strife. 
Wept, as it fell, the loss of virtuous shame, 
And blotted from the scroll the virgin's name ! 

' In this drear age, which ignorance o'erspread, 

When Frenzy reared her snake-encircled head, 

Mankind long grovelled in their native dust ; 

On their dark minds no glimpse of reason burst. 

A gloomy film was spread o'er mortal eyes, 

Like tlie tliick veil, which shrouds the spangled skies, 

When, dimly seen, the wandering fires of night 

Through heaven's dark glass emit a wateiy light. 

The earth, enveloped in the impervious gloom. 

Appeared a dismal, solitary tomb, 

Cimmerian Dulness seized the throne of Jove, 

Convened her clouds, and thronged the vault above ; 

Till daring Genius burst surrounding night. 

And shone the day-star of returning light ; 

Till Reason's sun in eastern clime appeared, 

From heaven's blue arch the shroudmg vapours cleared, 

With plastick heat the soul of man illumed. 

And all the mental world in verdure bloomed. 

/ Ages of darkness now had rolled away, 
Ere man, awakening, hailed the dawn of day ; 
E'er heaven-descended, soul-refining grace 
Shone in the cradle of the human race. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. SJ 

In ^gypt first her youthful charms were seen. 
To sport with rusticks on the Memnian green. 
Here first her social powers on earth began, 
To polish savages, and form the man ; 
Here first for use, and here for pleasure sought, 
The vai'ious sources of instrvictive thought. 

Here Agriculture claims her glorious birth ; 
Here first the ploughshare turned the furrowed earth ; 
Here bounteous Plenty beamed her infant smile ; 
And here immerged beneath the pregnant Nile 
Her " cornu copise," till it held no more, 
And poured luxuriance round the ^Egyptian shore. 
The hardy swains with joyful hearts appear, 
To reap the bounties of the fruitful year. 
While waving crowns old Autumn's brows entwine^, 
The golden orange and the blushing vine. 

Such are the blessings of indulgent skies. 
When heaven in dews the thirsty glebe supplies ; 
When cultured furrows swell the implanted grain, 
And vegetation crowns the gladsome plain. 
From latent seeds the wealthiest harvests rise ; 
The sun must dawn, before he lights the skies. 
Industrious virtue constant bliss enjoys ; 
For labour recreates^ when leisure cloys. 

Hail, Ceres ! second parent of mankind ! 
Hail, great restorer of the human mind ! 
In fame's bright record be enrolled tliy birth. 
The era of regenerated earth I 
8 



58 COLLEGPi EXERCISES, 

Thy arm the tyrant from his throne has hurled, 
And roused from slumber the lethargick world ; 
Thy hand broke off the shackles of control, 
And gave new freedom to the h-nprisoned soul. 
To thee the Arts their first existence owe, 
And Commerce owns, from thee her sources flow. 
Thy voice decreed ; in heaven the voice was heard, 
And sky-born Virtue on the earth appeared. 
Thou bad'st the sightless mind of man to see, 
And human nature seems renewed by thee ! 

Where auburn Ceres o'er the waving plain 
Rolls her light car, and spreads her golden reign ; 
The swains industrious, and inured to toil, 
Inclement Sirius, and the rugged soil. 
With hope's fond dreams their swift-winged hours beguile, 
And view in spring the embryo harvest smile ; 
Far from the cai*es, that gorgeous courts molest, 
And all the thorns, that pageant pomp infest ; 
Contentment's wings o'erspread their straw-thatched cot, 
And Health and Hymen bless their happy lot. 
Day bounds the labour of the teeming soil. 
And night unbends the aching nerves of toil. 
The hard fatigues, that daily sweat their brows, 
Add charms to rest, and raptures to repose ; 
Labour and Sleep vicissive thrones maintain, 
The downy pillow, and the sun-bui'nt plain. 
By mutual wants induced, the rustick band 
Soon learn the blessings of a friendly hand. 
The rugged hardships of the plough they share, 
And soothe ferocious minds by mutual cai^e, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 59 

Their social labour social warmth inspires, 
And dawning friendship lights her purest fires. 
Their generous breasts with growing ardour burn, 
And love for love, and heart for heart return. 
Thus private friendship fornas the social chain, 
And links the barbarous tenants of the plain. 
Still, like a herd, they rove, with laws unblest, 
No civil head to govern o'er the rest ; 
Till some wise sire, whose silver tresses flow, 
And form a mantle of the purest snow, 
Quivering with age, and venerably great, 
Assumes the sceptre, and the chair of state. 
The obedient tribes the palsied sage revere, 
Whose wisdom taught them, both to love and fear ; 
Their filial breasts, unbought by courtly bribes. 
With reverence see the father of the tribes ; 
His voice is fate, and not a lisp could fall, 
That was not thought an oracle by all ; 
With eyes of homage, they beheld his age. 
And called tlieir realm the household of the sage. 

Pleased with his reign, which met too soon a close, 
The tribes beneath elective kings repose. 
Now laws are formed to guard the rights of man, 
And peace and freedom bless the social plan ; 
Now art, the offspring of the ingenious mind, 
Completes the system and adorns mankind. 



60- COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



A VALEDICTORY POEM 



J>elivered on the 21st of June, 1791, being; the day when Mr. Panic and hi 
class left Colleffe. 



XJONG have the zephyrs, in their sea-green caves, 

Shunned the calm bosom of the slumbering waves ; 

While halcyon Pleasure nursed her tender brood. 

Spread her smooth wings, and skimmed the tranquil flood. 

The rising gale now curls the lucid seas ; 

The canvass wantons with the buoyant breeze ; 

The bark is launched ; we throng the crowded shore, 

Eye the dark main, and hear the billows roar ; 

The tender scene unfolds ; our bosoms melt ; 

And silence speaks the throbs, we all have felt. 

Here let us pause, and ere our anchors weigh, 

And shoreless ocean bounds tlie vast survey. 

Let Friendship, kneeling on the weeping strand, 

K.iss her last tiibute to her native land. 

Sweet, lovely Cam, no more thy rural scenes, 
Thy shady arbours, and thy splendid greens. 
Thy i^everend elims, thy soft Idalian bowers, 
Thy rush-clad hamlets, and thy lofty towers. 
Thy spicy valleys, and tliy opening glades, 
Thy falling fountains, and thy silent shades ; 
No more these dear delights, that once were oursy 
Smile time along, nor strcAv our couch with fiower&. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 61 

Hail, winding Charles, old Ocean's favourite son, 
To his vast urn thy gay meanders run. 
Diffusing wealth, thou rollest a liquid mine ; 
Earth drinks no current, that surpasses thine ! 
Thy cooling waves succeed the sleeping hearth, 
The peasant's fountain, and the muses' bath. 
Yet, fairest flood, adieu ! our happy day 
Like thy smooth stream, has flowed unseen away. 
No more thy banks shall bear our spoi-tive feet ; 
No more thy waves shall quench the dogstar's heat. 
Our fate reflected in thy face we view ; 
Thou hast. thy ebb, and we must bid adieu ! 
Hail, happy Harvard ! hail, ye sacred groves, 
Where Science dwells, and lovely Friendship roves \ 
Ye tender pleasures, and ye social sweets, 
Which softened life, and blessed these tranquil seats ! 
To part with you — a solemn gloom is spread ; 
The sigh half-stifled, and the tear half-shed. 

Come then, my friends, and, while the Avillow weaves 
A weeping garland with its drooping leaves. 
Let Friendship's myrtle in the foliage flow, 
And Wisdom's ivy wreath the shaded brow. 
Life is a stage, with varied scenery gay. 
But scenes more various mark the chequered play. 
Virtue and Vice here shine in equal state. 
The same their wardrobe, and the same their gait ; 
Here gay delusions cheat tlie dazzled eyes, 
And bliss and sorrow mtermingled rise. 
The soil of life their equal growth manures ; 
One sky supports them, and one sun matures. 



62 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Deep in the bosom of each distant clime, 
Their roots defy the furrowing share of time. 
Alike they bloom, while circling seasons wing 
The raving whirlwind and the smiling spring. 
One luckless day the extremes of fate surveys, 
And one sad hour sees both the tropicks blaze. 

A bitter tincture every sweet alloys, 
And woes, like heirs, succeed insolvent joys. 
Hard is the lot of life, by fears consumed, 
Or hopes, that wither, ere they well have bloomed ! 
Who breathes, may draw the death-infected air j 
Who quaffs the nectar, must the poison share. 
Untainted pleasures soon the taste would cloy ; 
Woe forms a relish for returning joy. 
The raging storm gives vegetation birth j 
And thunders, while they rock, preserve the earth. 

Vain are the gilded dreams, that Fancy weaves, 
With the light texture of the sybil's leaves. 
Sweet are the hovirs of Life's expanding years, 
When drest in splendour, eveiy scene appears. 
Romantick hopes illusive phantoms feed ; 
New prospects open as the old recede ; 
In flowering verdure, smiling Edens rise, 
And isles of pleasure tempt the enamoured eyes ; 
Still unexplored new beauties strike the sight, 
Till Fancy's wings grow weary in their flight. 

Resplendent bubbles, decked with every hue. 
Whose tints entrance the most enraptured view, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 62 

Throng every prospect, gild each rolling hour-, 
Frame the wild dream, and haunt the silent bower. 
These airy forms our fond embrace decoy, 
Elude our grasp, and stab expected joy ; 
Cameleon-like, with every hue they glare. 
Their dress the rainbow, and their food the air. 
Thus gleams the insect of a summer's night, 
The glistering fire-fly's corruscating light. 
Awhile it wheels its undistinguished flight 
Through the dark bosom of impervious night, 
'Till from its opening wings, a ti'ansient gleam 
Smiles through the dark, and pours a lucid stream ; 
But while the glitter chai^ms our gazing eyes. 
Its wings are folded, and the meteor dies. 

Maturer years in swift succession roll. 
Enlarge the prospect and dilate the soul ; 
Tully outstripped lies grovelling in renown. 
And Virgil weeps upon liis faded crown. 
Grouped in one view the extremes of life are joined, 
Arabia's bloom with Lapland's ice combined ; 
Calypso's grotto with the field of arms ; 
Ajacian fury with Helenian charms ; 
Bi'ight faulchions lighten in the olive grove, 
And helmets mingle with the toys of love. 
Here modest Merit mourned her blasted wreath. 
While laurels crowiied the ghastly scull of Death. 
Here towermg pedants proudly learnt to sneer 
On wits, whom they had sense enough to fear ; 
The midnight lamp with native genius vied. 
Mimicked its lustre, and its fire supplied. 



64 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

The nuts of grace, the rattles of tlie stool 
Bribed and adorned the blockhead of the school. 
O'er Youth's gay paths delusive snares are spread ; 
Soft Syrens sing, and smile Resistance dead ; 
Ixion's fate forgot, the busy croud 
Pursue a Juno, but embrace a cloud. 
From Lethes' stream is filled the flowing bowij 
And sweet oblivion whelms the drowsy soul ; 
No screams of murdered Time its slumbers break, 
And lounging Indolence forgets to wake. 
Ease for a while may charm the dormant mind, 
Pervert our reason, and our judgment blind ; 
But, soon, alas ! the magick spell will fly, 
And tears bedew Reflection's downcast eye.. 
Corrosive years one downy hour repay ; 
The bud, too forward, blossoms to decay. 

With cherished flames the youthful bosom glowsj 
And Hope luxuriant in the hot-bed grows. 
Self-flattering Fancy here her influence sheds, 
Young genius blossoms, and its foliage spreads ; 
But if too fierce the sultry splendours shine, 
And swelling growth distend the aspiring vme, 
No skilful hand the excrescent limbs to prune, 
At morn to water, and to shade at noon ; 
In Avildly-fertile efflorescence rise 
The encumbered branches, and the victim dies. 

Thus burning skies o'er India's arid soil 
In noblest verdure clothe each blooming isle, 
Whi,le sickly vapours taint the scorching breeze^ 
i\wake the earthquake, and convulse the seas ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 65 

fhe thirsty glebe exhausts each purling stream, 
And Death in ambush glistens from each beam. 

But nobler souls an equal temper know, 
Nor soar too vainly, nor descend too low. 
Heaven's angry bolt first strikes the mountain's head, 
And sweeping torrents drench the lowly shed. 
Heroick Worth, wliile nations rise and fall. 
Securely pi'opped, beholds this circling ball ; 
Like the firm nave, which nought can sink or raise, 
The whirls of fortune's wheel vinmoved surveys. 

Ye watchful guardians of our youthful band, 
Your worth our praise, your cares our love demand. 
Long have your toils the parent's office graced. 
Formed the young thought, and pruned the lising taste. 
Infantile genius needs the fostering hand. 
Its buds to open, and its flowers expand ; 
And bounteous Heaven this nursery has designed. 
To rock tlie cradle of the infant mind. 
Long have you slaked the thirst of ardent youth 
From this clear fountain of untamted truth. 
Faithful to censure, eager to commend, 
To act the critick, and to feel the friend ; 
Watchful to lend unasking Merit aid. 
And beckon modest Virtue from the shade ; 
These are the blessings, which your smiles bestow ; 
These are the wreathes, that crown your laureat brow 5 
And these, enrolled on Memory's faithful page. 
Fame shall transcribe, and sound to every age, 
9 



GOLtEGE EXERCISER. 

And when grey Time shall knit the wrinkled browy 
And wintry age shall shed its mantling snow, 
Some reverend father in the chair of state, 
Quivei^ng with age, and venerably great, 
Shall cast o'er life a retrospective view, 
And bless the soil, where infant greatness grew ; 
And while the long review his breast shall swell. 
Here shall his mind with filial fondness dwell ; 
While transport glistens from the falling tear, 
And Death, grown envious at the sight, draws near, 
The good old man, with this expiring sigh, 
" Let Harvard live," shall clasp his hands and die^ 

This sacred temple and this classick grove 
Proclaim your merits, and our grief approve. 
The painter's skill may shade the glooms of fate^. 
And fancied woe the griefless eye dilate j 
We spurn the glaring tapestry of art j 
Truth's noblest pencil is a grateful heart. 
Long may your days in gay succession run ; 
Long may you bask in Fortune's smilmg sun ; 
Long o'er these happy seats may you preside, - 
The boast of Harvard, and your countiy's pride. 
Our filial bosoms shall your names revere ; 
Truth has a tongue, and gratitude a tear. 
Waves crowd on waves, on ages ages roll. 
And we retire, that you may reach the goal. 
Here for a while your busy feet may rove. 
To cull the flowers of this Lycean grove. 
Like you, we passed the distant threshold by. 
While Hope looked forward with a wishful eye ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^f 

Liike you, we gazed on Fame's immortal door ; 
You tread the path, that we have trod before ; 
And scarce the sun his annual tour has made 
Since we with joy this solemn day surveyed. 
But, ah ! our joy was but an April morn ; 
The rose has faded and has left -the thom. 
Feel then the wound, before you meet the dart ; 
Like us you follow, and, like us, must part. 

The bloom of youthful years is doomed to fade ^ ^ 

The brightest noon a sullen cloud may shade ; 
And we, my friends, to whom each bliss is given, 
This happy spot, this vicinage of heaven, 
Each painful sense, each tender woe endure, 
And bleed with wounds, which Friendship cannot cure-. 
While gaily sparkling from the realms of night. 
Smiles the fair morn, and spreads her golden light, 
Grown dark with fate, the solemn skies appear, 
And distant thunder? strike the astonished ear ; 
The tempest lowers, the rapid moments fly. 
And moistening friendship melts in every eye. 

Oft, when employed in life's prospective view, 
This gloomy hour a mournful tribute drew. 
Oft have we shuddered at this solemn day. 
And gazed till tears had dimmed the visual ray. 
Now the dark scene, which Fancy once surveyed^ 
And o'er our brightest pleasures cast a shadcj 
Bids the warm stream of real grief to flow? 
The silent elegy of speechless woe. 
Long have we wished this painful day removed 5 
Affection framed the wish, and Hope approved., 



^8 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Long have we hugged the dream with fond deceit, 

And strove by tears to intercede with Fate. 

But, ah ! in vain, for now the rapid sun 

Four annual circuits through the heaven has run ; 

In our sad ears the solemn dirges ring, 

And our last hope is flitting on the wing. 

With swifter course the new-bom moments fly ; 
Here wipe the tear, suppress the bursting sigh. 

Oft have we rambled o'er the flowery plain. 
And freely followed Pleasure's smiling train ; 
Oft have we wandered o'er the breezy hill, 
And traced the windings of the purling rill ; 
Where the dark forest glooms the silent walk. 
Has prattling Echo learnt of us to talk ; 
Oft on the river's flowery banks we've ranged. 
To all the woes of future life estranged ; 
Oft on the scenes, which airy Fancy drew. 
We fondly gazed and fondly thought them true. 
But now no more these social sports delight ; 
No song the ear, no landscape charms the sight. 
From grove to grove the airy songsters play, 
All nature blooms, and smiling heaven looks gay ; 
But, ah ! for us no verdant meadqw blooms ; 
No songsters warble, and no sun illumes j 
These can but lend another shade to woe. 
And add new tortures to the poignant blow. 
No more we mingle in the sportive scene. 
The gay palestra, and the tufted green. 

The fatal sheers the slender thread divide, 
And sculptured urns the mouldering relicks hide ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 69 

Far deeper wounds our bleeding breasts display, 

And Fate's most deadly weapon is — to-day. 

To-day we part ; ye throbs of anguish, rise, 

Flow, all ye tears, and heave, ye rending sighs ! 

Come, lend to Friendship's stifRed voice relief. 
And melt the lonely hermitage of grief. 

Sighs, though in vain, may tell the world we feel. 

And tears may soothe the wound, they cannot heal. 

To day we launch from this delightful shore. 

And Mirth shall cheer, and Friendship charm no more ; 

We spread the sail o'er life's tumultuous tide ; 

Ambition's helm, let prudent Reason guide ; 

Let grey Experience, with her useful chart. 

Direct the wishes of the youthful heart. 

Where'er kind Heaven shall bend, our wide career, 

Still let us fan the flame, we've kindled here ; 

Still let our bosoms burn with equal zeal. 

And teach old age the warmth of youth to feel. 

But ere the faithful moment bids us part. 

Rends every nerve, and racks the throbbing heart, 

Let us, while here our fondest prayer ascends. 

Swear on this altar, " that we will be friends 1" 

But, ah ! behold the fatal moment fly ; 

Time cuts the knot, he never could untie. 

Adieu ! ye scenes, where noblest pleasures dwell I 

Ye happy seats, ye sacred walls, farewell ! 

Adieu, ye guides, and thou enlightened sire ; 

A long farewell resounds our plaintive lyi'e ; 

Adieu, ye youths, that press our tardy heel ; 

Long may it be, ere you such griefs shall feel ! 

Wild horrors swim around my startlmg view ; 

Fate prompts my tongue, and, oh 1 my friends, adieu, 



70 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



The following Poem was delivered on Commencement day, at Cambridge, v/heu 
Mf. Paine proceeded Bachelor of Arts, July 1792. 



THE NATURE AND PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 

XXail, sacred Freedom ! heaven-born goddess, hail ! 

Friend of the pen, the sickle and the sail ! 

From thee the power of liberal thought we trace. 

The great enlargement of the human race. 

Thou hast recalled, to man's astonished sight, 

Those joys, that spring from choice of doing right ; 

That sacred blessing, man's peculiar pride, 

To follow Reason, where she ought to guide ; 

Nor urged by power the devious path to run, 

Which Reason warns our erring feet to shun. 

What Reason prompts, 'tis Freedom to fulfil ; 

This guides the conduct, that directs the will ; 

That with the " rights of man" from Heaven descends, 

And this with Heaven's own shield those rights defends ; 

Bound by no laws, but Truth's extensive plan. 

Which rules all rationals and social man ; 

Essential laws, which guide in wide career 

The rapid motions of the boundless sphere. 

There Order bids the circling planets run 

Through heaven's vast suburbs round the blazing sun j 

Directs an atom, as it rules the pole, 

Reigns through all worlds, and shines the system's soul ; 

This moves the vast machine, unknown to jar. 

And links an insect with the fai'tliest star. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. tl 

Thus Freedom here the civil system binds, 
Cements our friendships, and illumes our mincts. 
She bids the varying parts of life cohere, 
The sun and centre of the social sphere. 
Freedom in joys of equal life delights, 
Forbids encroachment on another's rights, ^ 

Contemns the tyrant's proud imperial sway, 
Nor leaves the subject for the sceptre's prey. 
She curbs ambition, bold mcursion checks, 
Nor more the palace, than the vale protects. 
From her the noblest joys of mortals spring ; 
She makes the cot a throne, the peasant king. 
Her presence smooths tlie rugged paths of woe. 
And bids the rock with streams of pleasure flow. 
No raven's notes her sacred gToves annoy ; 
There Sickness smiles, and Want exults with joy. 
There never drooped the willow of Despair, 
Nor pressed the footstep of corroding Care- 
Hard is the task, which civil rulers bear, 
To give each subject freedom's equal share; 
But still more arduous to the statesmen's ken. 
To check the passions of licentious men. 
The licensed robber, and the knave in power. 
Whose grasping avarice strips the peasant's bower. 
Would glean an Andes' topmost rock for wealth, 
And feed, like leeches, on their country's health. 
The man, who barters influence for applause. 
Libels the smile, and spurns the frown of laws. 
Licentious morals breed disease of state, 
And snatch the scabbard from the sword of fate. 



72 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

These were the bane, which ancient ages knew ; 
On freedom's stalk the engrafted scion grew. 

Long had the clouds of ignorance gloomed mankind, 
And Error held the sceptre of the mind ; 
Long had the tyrant kept the world in awe, 
Swords turned the scale, and nods enacted law ; 
But where mild Freedom crowns the happy shore. 
Law guides the king, and kings the law no more. 
No threatening sword the forum's tongue restrains ; 
No monarch courts the mask, when Reason reigns. 
Here glows the press with Freedom's sacred zeal, 
The great Briareus of the publick weal. 

Dire wars, those civil earthquakes, long had raged, 
Seas burst on seas, and world with world engaged ; 
Freedom allured the struggling hero's eye, 
Of arms the laurel — of the world the sigh. 

But, ah ! in vain the clarion sounds afar, 
Vain the dread pomp, and vain the storm of war ; 
In vain dread Havock saw her millions die ; 
Vain the soft pearl, that melts the virgin's eye ; 
Vain the last groan of grey expiring age. 
To move the marble of despotick rage ! 
In that dai'k realm, where science never shone, 
On earth's owai basis stands the tyrant's throne. 
One murder marks the assassin's odious name. 
But millions damn the hero into fame ; 
And one proud monarch from the throne was hurled, 
That rival sceptres might dispute the world. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. f^ 

l^reedom beheld new foes the old replace, 
And ne'er extinct the despot's hydra race ; 
Still some usurper for the crown survived ; 
She stabbed a Caesar, but Augustus lived. 
So meanly abject was the vassaled earth, 
Rome blazed a bonfire for a Nero's mirth ; 
While, like the insect round the taper's blaze. 
The crowd beheld it with a thoughtless gaze. 
No daring patriot stretched his arm to save 
His country's freedom from oblivion's grave ; 
*l"'he slave, who once opposed the crown in vain, 
Found a new rivet in his former chain. 

Thus raged the horrors of despotick sway. 
Till Albion welcomed freedom's da\nnng ray ; 
Which, like the herald of returning light, 
Beamed through the clouds of intellectual night. 
But here environed was the human path. 
Cramped the free mind, and chained the choice oifaitlu 
Religious despots foi^med the impious plan, 
To lord it o'er the consciences of man. 

This galling yoke our sires could bear no more ; 
They fled, for freedom, to Colum.bia's shore. 
Truth for their object, Virtue for their guide. 
They braved the dangers of an unknown tide. 
The patriarch's God of old preserved the ark. 
And freedom's guardian watched the patriot's bark- 
The shrine of freedom and of truth to rear, 
They left those scenes, which social life endear ; 
To Britain's courts preferred the savage den. 
The free-bom Indian to dependent men. 
10 



74 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



For this, the parting tear of Friendship fell j 
For this, they bade their parent soil farewell 



In these dark wilds they fixed the deep laid stoncy 
On which fair Freedom since has reared her throne. 
But still a cloud their civil views confined, 
And gloomed the prospect of the pious mind ; 
While Britain claimed with laws our rights to lead, 
And faith was fettered by a bigot's creed. 

Then mental freedom first her power displayed. 
And called a Mayhew to religion's aid. 
For this dear truth, he boldly led the van, 
That private judgment was the right of man. 
Mayhew disdained that soul-contracting view 
Of sacred truth, which zealous Frenzy drew ; 
He sought religion's fountain head to drink, 
And preached what others only dared to think ; 
He loosed the mind from Superstition's awe, 
And broke the sanction of Opinion's law. 
Truth gave his mind the electrick's subtle springs 
A Chatham's lightning, and a Milton's wing. 
Mayhew hath cleansed the bigot's filmy eye ; 
Mayhew explored religion's native sky, 
Whei^ ever radiant in immortal youth, 
Shines the clear sun of inexhausted truth ; 
Where time's vast ocean, like a drop would seem, 
The world a pebble, and yon sun a beam. 
He struck that spark, whose genial warmth we feel 
In heavenly charity's fraternal zeaL 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. t?S 

Soon blazed the flame, with kindlmg ardour i*an, 
And gave new vigour to the breast of man. 
Swift as loud torrents from a mountain's brow 
Plunge down the sky, and whelm the world below ; 
Our patriots bade the vast idea roll, 
And round Columbia waft a common soul. 
Freedom resumed her throne ; her oiFspring rose, ■ 
Braved the dread fury of despotick foes. 
Explored the source whence all our glory ran, 
Columbia's freedom and the " rights of man ;" 
Europa's wish, the tyrant's dread and rage, 
The noblest epoch on the historick page ! 

Hail, virtuous ancestors ! seraphick minds ! 
Heroes in faith, and Freedom's noblest friends ! 
With filial fervour grateful memory calls. 
To bless the founders of those sacred walls ! 
You gave to age a staff — a guide to youth. 
Yon fount of science, and that lamp of truth. 
Where Knowledge beams her soul-enlivening ray, 
There Freedom spreads her heaven-descended sway. 
Learning's an antidote of lawless power ; 
Enlighten man, and tyrants reign no more ! 

Hail, sacred Liberty ! tremendous sound ! 
Which strikes the despot's heart with awe profound ^ 
Bursts with more horrour on the tyrant's ears, 
Than all the thunders of the embattled sphef^s ; 
More dreadful than the fiend, whose noxious breath 
Consigns whole nations to the realms of death ; 
Than all those tortures, which Belshazzar felt 
Convulse his tottering knees, his bosom melt, 



5^6 s COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

When on the wall the sacred finger drew 
Jehovah's vengeance to the monarch's view 5 
His visage Terrour's palest veil o'ercast, 
And Guilt with wildest horrour stood aghast i 
Such direful tremours shake the tyrant's soul. 
When Liberty xuifolds her radiant scroll. 

Hail, sacred Liberty, divinely fair ! 
iPolumbia's great palladium, Gallia's prayer ! 
From heaven descend to free this fettered globe ; 
Unclasp the helmet, and adorn the robe. 
May struggling France her ancient freedom gain ; 
May Europe's sword oppose her rights in vain. 
The dauntless Franks once spumed the tyrant's power 
May Frenchmen live, and Gallia be no more I 

May Africk's sons no more be heard to groan. 
Lament their exile nor their fate bemoan ! 
Torn from the pleasures of their native clime, 
Each sigh rebellion — and each tear a crime, 
Their only solace, but to brood on woes, 
Or, on the down of rocks their limbs repose ! 
Weak with despair, slow tottering with toil, 
Bleeding with wounds, and gasping on the soil. 
No friend, no pity, cheers the hapless slave, 
No sleep but death, no pillow but the grave. 
Blush, despots, blush ! who, fired by sordid ore, 
Like pirates, plunder Africk's swarming shore ; 
To western worlds the shackled slave trepan. 
And basely traffick in " the souls of man !" 
Vile monsters, hear ! Time spreads his rapid wingSj 
^\nd now ^he fated hour in prospect brings, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. ff 

When your proud turrets shall to earth be thrown, 
And Freedom triumph in the torrid zone ! 
May tyranny from every throne be hurled, 
And make no more a scaffold of the trorld ! 

Where'er the sunbeam gilds the rolling hour, 
Wings the fleet gale, and blossoms in the flower ; 
May Freedom's glorious reign o'er realms prevail, 
Where Cook's bright fancy never spread the sail. 
Long may the laurel to the ermine yield, 
The stately palace to the fertile field ; 
The fame of Burke in dark oblivion rust, 
His pen a meteor — and his page the dust ; 
Faction no more the enlightened world alarm, 
Nor snatch the infant from the parent's ami ; 
May Peace, descending like the mystick dove, 
Which once announced the great Immanual's love. 
On Freedom's brow her olive garland bind. 
And shed her blessings round on all mankind ! 



The following Pieces are found among Mr. Paine's loose papers. They were 
written, some at an earlier, and some at a later period, during his academical 
life, 

A PASTORAL. 

oo fair a form was ne'er by Heaven designed 
But with its charms to enslave and bless mankind. 
So pure a mind, such high unrivalled worthy 
Put to recall a paradise on earth ! 



fS COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Then, ye fair Nine, the trembling muse inspire ; 
In raptured notes awake her feeble lyre ; 
Now swell your boldest strains 1 Maria's praise 
Claims all tlie majesty of Homer's lays. 

MORNING. 

Now Phosphor swells the clarion note of morn, 
And all the hostile clouds of night are gone ; 
Ambrosial zephyrs ope the fragrant flowers, 
And rosy Health attends the jocund hours. 
The Morn, with pearly feet advancing, leads 
Joy's smiling train, and blushes o'er the meads. 
The golden flood of light o'er eastern hills 
She pours, and every breast with rapture fills. 
The ocean, sheathed in light's effulgent arms. 
Rolls his high surges bright with borrowed charms. 
The little hills around their carols sing ; 
The vales with soft mellifluous echoes ring ; 
The early lark attunes her matin lay. 
And vocal forests hail the approach of day. 

The vigorous huntsman leaves his downy bed,; 
And mounted swiftly scours along the mead. 
Hark ! the shrill clarion's winding note resounds ; 
Hark ! the air trembles with the cry of hounds. 
The raging wolves through gloomy forests prowl, 
The tawny lions through the meadows howl. 
\uO ! o'er the fields Maria bends her way ; 
The gazing hounds forget their tremblmg prey ; 
The grateful woods repeat Maria's name. 
And all tlie savage race, inspired, grow tame. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 79 

The youthful shepherd, who had housed his flock 
Withm the dark recesses of a rock, ' 

To screen them from the wolf's resistless jaw, 
Needs now no crook to keep his foe in awe ; 
For, while his notes Maria's name resound. 
The wolf no more infests the peaceful ground. 

* In beauty clad, more beauteous than the morn, 
The fair Maria trips the dewy lawn ; 
The ambroisal zephyrs, from each meadow, seek. 
To steal new perfumes from her fragrant cheek ; 
Celestial Virtue guides her wandering feet, 
And Science courts her to her fair retreat. 
Here shall the rose grow, free from every thorn, 
^nd here her life be fair, be sweet as mom. 

NOON. 

Now the fierce coursers of the sultry day 
Breath from their nostrils the meridian ray ; 
Beneath such heat the landscape faints around ; 
The birds forget to sing, the woods to sound ; 
The withered rose forgets perfumes to yield, 
And murmuring brooks mourn o'er the drooping field. 

The sprightly lambs, which in the morning played. 
And near a fount their fleecy form surveyed, 
On the green tuft, the limpid stream o'erflows, 
Subdued by heat, their weary limbs repose. 

The sweating ploughman leaves his sultry toil, 
To quench his thirst from ci'ystal streams, that boil 



80 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

O'er the rough pebbles, which incessant chide, 
As o'er the fields they in meanders glide. 

The love-sick swain now leaves his drooping flockj 
And seeks retreat beneath some shelving rock. 
Which Spring's fair hand, with fairest flowers, has gi-aced j 
Here he retires the heat of day to Avaste. 

All Nature droops ; no joy the meadow yields : 
How languid is the green, which graced the fields I 
But see, Maria comes, by zephyrs fanned ; 
See how the gales the enlivening flowers expand. 
Spontaneous roses in her footsteps spring ; 
The fields revive, the cheerful warblers sing ; 
The drooping foi'est now the lyre resumes. 
In fair Maria's praise each landscape blooms ; 
Now tears of joy array the smiling lawn. 
And soaring larks would fondly think, 'twas morn; 

EVENING- 

Retiring day now blushes o'er the heaven, 
And slow in solemn brown brings on the even ; 
Now silent dews along the gi'ass distil, 
And all the air with their sweet fragrance fill ; 
Now chaste Diana, with her silver train, 
In her bright chariot rising quits the main ; 
Now all the stars in bright confusion roll. 
And with their lustre gild the glowing pole. 
The happy swains now seek the ambrosial groves, 
On their sweet pipes to warble forth their loves, 
'Twas here reclined beneath the leafy shade, 
While busy thought Maria's form surveyed, 



GtJLLEGE EXERCISES. 81 

The artless **** with his rvide pipe retired, 

To sing those carols, which his love inspired. 

His pipe^ though rude, ne'er swelled a treacherous lay ; 

His pipe and bosom owned Maiia's sway. 

'Twas here he taught the woods her name to sound, 

And her soft praises echoed all around. 

Not far retired, the object of his love 
With her sweet strains enchanted all the grove ; 
While bending forests listened to the tale, 
And her sweet notes re-echoed o'er the vale. 
A nightingale, who, from a neighbournig spray. 
Attentive heard Maria's matchless lay, 
With envy saw the well deserved meed. 
Bloom with new honours to adorn her head. 
iShe thrice essayed to emulate the lay, 
And thrice her wandering thoughts were led astray. 
Charmed by the miisick of Maria's song. 
Her heedless notes forgot to pass along. 
A sudden quivering seized her tender throat ; 
She ceased to breathe her sweetly plaintive note ; 
Her languid wings she fluttered on the spray, 
And at the shrine of Envy sighed her life away* 

Thus, fair Maria, in your wondrous praise. 
The youthful muse has sung her feeble lays ; 
And though your name is all that in them shines? 
Forgive tlie errors of her artless lines. 
Your true, conspicuous merit e'en will claim. 
A rank immortal on the list of fame, 
11 



82 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

As on one tree, when sin had not beguiled, 
Blossoms and fruits in sweet confusion smiled. 
So youth's gay flowerets in your features bloom, 
And wisdom's sacred rays your mind illume. 



REFLECTIONS ON A LONELY HILL, WHICH COMMANDED THE 
PROSPECT OF A BURYING GROUND. 

XlERE museful Thought and Contemplation dwell; 

Here Silence spreads her horrors round ; 
Hark ! the dull tinkling stream from yonder cell ! 

The soul recoils at every sound ! 

Stai'tled, I view new phantoms round me rise, 

And seem to chide my dull, delay ; 
View yonder spot where human greatness lies ; 

Thus all must moulder and decay. 

Hark ! from afar the solemn sounding bell 

Fills the dull ear with plaints of woe ; 
Tis Death awakes, and spreads the warning knell j 

Through the sad gates the mourners flow. 

The distant landscape fades ; thick glooms arise j 

Twilight the sombre scene surveys ; 
While tears, in dew drops, glisten in her eyes. 

And faintly shroud her pitying rays. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 8^ 

\Vhen blooming spring adorns the verdant mead, 

Zephyrs arise from every grove ; 
The notes of joy along the woodland spread, 

And breathe the fragrant sweets of love. 

O'er hill, o'er dale the nimble huntsmen bound, 

And wake the morn to health's employ ; 
With variegated flowers the mead is crowned j 

Spring wantons in the bowers of joy. 

But sultry summer wings the Sirian ray, 

Whose heat subdues the blooming field ; 
The fair blown flowerets wither and decay j 

The trees \mripened fruitage yield. 

Now the black tempest gathers from afar ; 

With horror all the horizon's bound ; 
Now clashing clouds along the ether war^ 

And pour their inundations I'ound. 



VV HEN ****'s graces bid the pencil break 
Through Nature's barriers, and the canvass speak j 
Lo ! stooping Time stands gazing at the form, 
And e'en his frigid limbs with love grow warm. 
But when her lofty muse commands the page 
To soothe the passions, or inspire with rage. 
Charmed with each line the hoary despot stands? 
And ruin's uplift scythe drops from his hands. 

I 



^4 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



FRAGMENT. 



J. HE Splendid morn with flaming light had graced 

The gold fringed clouds, the curtains of the east ; %JL 

Invited by the breeze to taste the sweets ' 

Which breathe in Harvard's venerable seats, 

Beneath her flowery gi^oves and bowers I strayed ; 

Morpheus had just forsook the happy shade ; 

He saw me, rambling o'er the morning dew, 

And in my face enraged his poppies threw ; 

Pressed Avith the load, my heavy eyelids close, 

And in the shade my drowsy limbs repose. 

When to my eyes 9,n aged dame appeared, 

Gazed on the scene and treasured all she heard. 

Upon her brow deep thought in furrows lies, 

And wild anxiety distorts her eyes ; 

Me thus accosting in my cool resort ; 

" I come," says she, " from Wisdom's brilliant court> 

" Where fair Maria, of immortal name, X 

" Holds the high sceptre with vuibounded fame. 

" My name's Investigation, fondly sought, 

" Where Truth can please tlie mind, or warm the thought. 

" Then follow in my steps to yonder shade ; 

" There stands a mirror to the eye displayed ; 

" In it each virtue of the deepest breast, 

^* And every vice and fault appear exprest. 

'^' 'Twas there Maria bade me lead your eyes, 

" To amend each error, and to make you wise.'* 

My willing hand then to the path she drew ; 

1 fondly bade to vice a long adieu ! 



•f 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^$ 

'lost the matin carol of the lark, 
And entered in the grove ; — 'twas still and dark. ^ 
A solemn silence sat on every scene, 
And envious night veiled spring's delightful mien, 
In mazy rout we rove the winding road, 
And oft retrace the path we once have trod, 
'Till through the transient gloom a ray of light. 
From the broad mirror, beamed upon our sight. 
Above a rumung brook, the mirror's gleam. 
With bright reflection, tinged the glassy stream ; 
Hence light, emerging round, the grove displayed, 
'Till faintly dim it mingled with tlie shade. 
Cheered by the feeble ray through many a maze. 
We turn our feet and reach the mirror's blaze. 
Fair Truth, the spotless offspring of the sky. 
Rayed in a robe of flowing white, stood by ; 
With gentle voice she thus accosts my guide : 
'< Hail, honoured maid, fair Reason's noblest pride I 
" Oft hast thou won the prize of bliss supreme, 
" And these fond warbling groves chose thee their theme ; 
" And oft have I, enticed by fond regard, 
" The stainless laurel for your brow prepared. 
" But say, fair nymph, whence come you thus again ? 
'^ What happy mortal follows in your train ?" 
To whom my guide, " Where fair Maria's court 
" For exiled Wisdom opes a kind resort, 
" Thence I return, at her command, once more 
" These spotless groves and blest retreats to explore ; 
" To teach this youth thy undissembling lore ; 
" In thy pure mirror to display each stain / 

^' Which blots his bosom, or what virtues reign," 



• 



••*/?#jA/-' 



86 COLLEGE EXEUGISES. 

Then heavenly Ti'uth her magick sceptre moved, 
Anc^From the mirror all its gloss removed. 
The vmdazzled eye could now unhurt behold 
The mmost secrets of the breast unfold. 



The following lines, I am inclined to think,'make a part of the "Invention of 
Letters," as that poem was first designed by Mr. Paine ; — but, because my 
opinion is without other evidence, than such as arises from the subject, I place 
the fragment here, rather than in a note to the " Invention of Letters." 

OAGE Cadmus, hail ! to thee the Grecians owed 
The art and science, that from letters flowed ; 
To thy great mmd indebted ages stand, 
And grateful Learning owns thy guardian hand. 
Without the invention of a written tongue, 
E'en Fame herself no lastmg notes had sung ; 
Thy brow she crowns with tributary bays. 
And sounds thy glory in immortal lays. 

Hark ! a swift whii-hvind rushes through the heaven ^ 
Before its wrath the stateliest oaks are riven. 
Say ! is the thunderbolt from Jove's right hand. 
Launched on the earth to scourge a guilty land ? 
Say ! have the embattled winds, in eddies whirled, 
Joined their whole force to storm the shivering world ? 
Lo ! bold Demosthenes advances forth, 
His voice, like thunder bursting from the north ; 
Dread Philip hears, and trembles from afar ; 
Greece springs from slumber to the field of war. 
From his keen eyes the livid lightnings dart, 
And freedom's flame from breast to breast impart. 



X4^.rt^< 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 8^ 



This translation of the Tityrus was made by Mr. Paine in April 1790 ;•— it giveis 
the sense of Virgil with considerable fidelity and elegance. 



TfEANSLATION OF THE FIRST ECLOGUE OF VIRGII,. 
MELIBOeUS. 

W HiLE you, O Tityrus, beneath the shade, 
Which the broad branches of this beech display, 
Devoid of care, recline your peaceful head. 
And warble on your pipe the sylvan lay ; 
While vocal v^oods to your enchantment yield, 
And Amaryllis' praise witli joy resound, 
We wander far from home, by fate comfielled, 
And leave our peaceful cot, our native ground. 

TITYRUS. 

These are the blessings, which a God bestowed ; 
His bounteous hand e'er proved a God to me ; 
The tender lamb oft stains his shrine with blood, 
And by his leave my herds rove o'er the lea ; 
Beneath his smiles I live with joy and ease, 
And carol on my pipe whate'er I please. 

MELIBOeUS. 

I envy not your fortvme, but rejoice, 
While raging tumults in the country reign, 
While the inveterate sword each field destroys^ 
That happiness still smiles along your plains. 
But, adverse fate still frowns where'er I go ; 
My fleecy goats with pensive gait I lead. 



88 CdLLfiGE teXERClSES, 

And this I drag along with much ado, 

Who just now yeanmg in the hazle shade. 

Departing thence forsook her tender young, 

The little hope of my decreasmg fold, 

On the cold bosom of a flinty stone. 

Dire omens oft have all these ills foretold ! 

I should have seen, of reason not bereft. 

Yon oak, which grew so fair, by lightening riven. 

And the hoarse i^aven, croaking from the left, 

Presage the vengeful storm of frowning heaven. 

But, tell me, Tityrus, who is this God, 

That on his favourite swain such gifts bestowed ? 

TITYRUS. 

A fool I was to thmk the city Rome, 
Whither we drive our tender herds from home, 
Like Mantua ; thus I might likewise dare 
Bitches with whelps, and dams with kids compare ; 
As well the great to small a likeness own ; 
But regal Rome ei^ects her lofty throne, 
Above the cities, which around her shine, 
As the tall cypress o'er the creeping vine- 

MELIBOeUS. 

What mighty cause could force you thus from home. 
And urge the fond desire of seeing Rome ? 

TITYRUS. 

Freedom ; whose ray at length disclosed its light? 
After old age had blossomed all its white. 
Upon my hoary chin it came at last, 
After long years of slavery were passed, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

After my love for Galatea ceased, 

And beauteous Amaryllis warmed my breast ; 

For while in Galatea's love enchained, 

Nor freedom's hope, nor rural cares remained ; 

Though frequent victims thinned my rising fold, 

And many a cheese for th' ingrate city sold. 

Yet still for her I spent whate'er I earned, 

And still with empty purse I home returned. 

MELIBOeUS. 

Why Amaryllis to tlie gods complained. 
And why the trees their ripened loads sustained, 
I cease to wonder j Tityrus, for thee 
Her vows were made, and fruitage bent each tree ; 
The groves, the fountains wish for your return, 
And 'twas for this the pine's tall branches mourn. 

TITYRUS. 

What could I do ? Love still inflamed my heart, 
Nor suffered me from slavery to depart. 
Return I could not, for a gracious ear 
The auspicious gods there granted to my prayer ; 
There first I saw the youth, whose altars burn, 
With grateful incense at each month's return ; 
'Twas there he kindly gave my steers again 
To own the yokp, ray herds to graze the plain. 

MELIBOeUS. 

O, happy sire, for you your fields remain, 
For you, shall plenty smile along your plain ; 
Although the marshy bulrush overspread. 
And flinty rocks clothe o'er the neighbouring mead ; 
12 



90 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Yet shall no dire contagion waste your flock, 

Nor noxious food the pregnant kine provoke. 

Fortunate man ! what pleasures on you wait ; 

Here, where the well known river winds its flood, 

Where sacred groves embower a cool retreat, 

Where gales, to fan you, breathe from every wood. 

From yonder hedge, which guards the neighbouring ground. 

Where Hyolean bees the willow grove surround. 

Still shall their murmurs slumbering, as they creep, 

O'er the closed eyelids spread the balm of sleep ; 

While from yon craggy rock the pruner's song. 

Your slumbers shall with pleasing dreams prolong ; 

Nor shall the dove forget her coomg note, 

And from the elm the turtle's musick float. 

TITYRUS. 

Sooner the stag the earth for air shall change, 
The fish on shore retreating ocean cast ; 
Along the Tygris' banks the German range. 
The exiled Parthian of the Arar taste. 
Than from my grateful breast his angel face, 
E'en hoary Time be able to erase. 

MELIBOeUS. 

But, we in exile from our native lands. 
Shall seek retreat in Africk's parching sands ; 
To swift Oasis or to Scythia haste, 
Or from the world to Britain's cloistered waste- 
And must we tlius our hapless fate deplore, 
And ne'er our eyes review our native shore ; 
Or shall some future year restore my throne. 
The lowly cot, those meadows once my own ? 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^1 

And shall the impious soldier seize my field ? 

For the barbarian shall the harvest yield 

Its annual products ? Ah ! what horrid wars, 

And scenes of misery spring from civil jars ? 

For whom have I beneath the sultry sun 

Thus tilled my ground ? the labour's all that's mine. 

Go, Meliboeus, haste, your pear-trees jirune^ 

In beauteous order plant the tender vine ; 

Go, my once happy, now deserted flock, 

No more beneath the verdant grot I lay^ 

Nor tiew you grazing on the craggy rock, 

No more upon my rural pipe I'll play ; 

No more shall you upon the hillock's top, 

The flowery shrub or bitter osier crop. 

TITYRUS. 

With me at least to night lay by your care. 
We can for you a bed of leaves prepare ; 
With ripened apples, which the fields afford, 
Chestnuts and milk we'll store the frugal board. 
Now the blue vapours o'er the liills arise, 
And smokes from village chimneys paint the skies. 
Now setting Phoebus meets his western bed, 
And from the hills the lengthening shadows spread. 



92 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



TRANSLATION 

®F THE TENTH ODE, SECOND BOOK OF HORACE. 

Addressed to Licinius. 

If o'er life's sea your bark you'd safely guide, 
Trust not the svirges of its stomny tide ; 
And while you dread the tempest's horrid roar, 
Avoid those shoals, which threaten from the shore. 

The happy few, who choose the golden mean, 
Free from the tattered garb, the cell obscene, 
From all the woi'ld's gay pageantry aloof, 
Spurn the rich trappings of the envied roof. 

The stately ship, which cuts the glassy wave, 
Is oftener tossed than skiffs, when tempests rave : 
The tower, whose lofty brow sustains the sky. 
With greater ruin tumbles from on high : . 
The lightning's bolt, with forky vengeance red, 
Vents its first fury on the mountain's head. 

The mind, where Wisdom deigns her genial light, 
Led by the star of Hope in adverse night, 
Fortune's gay sunshine never can elate— 
Dauntless, prepared to meet the frovms of Fate. 

'Tis Jove who bids the dashing tempest swell, 
And the bright sun the stormy clouds dispel. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 93 

If o'er your paths clouds now should cast a gloom, 
Soon will the scene in brighter prospects bloom : 
Apollo does not always strike the lyre, 
Nor bid the arrow from his bow aspii'e. 

When raging grief and poverty appear, 
Strengthen thy sickening heart, and banish fear. 
When you are wafted by a prosperous gale. 
Learn wisely to contract the swelling sail. 



TRANSLATION 

OF THE FIFTH ODE, FIRST BOOK OF HORACE 
Addressed to the courtezan Pyrrha. 

W HO, fair Pyrrha, wins thy graces ? 

What gay youth imprints a kiss ? 
Or in roseate groves embraces 

Urging thee to amorous bliss ? 

To delude to your caresses 

What young rake, or wanton blade, 

Do you bind your golden tresses, 
In plain elegance arrayed ? 

Soon the unhappy youth, deploring. 

Shall lament thy proud disdain ; 
Thus, the winds, tempestuous roaring, 

Rend the bosom of the main. 



94 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

He, who's now thy beauty prizing, 
In thy smiles supremely blest, 

Dreams not of the storm that's rising, 
To distui'b his peaceful breast. 

Misery's sharpest pang he suflfers, 
Who, secure from all alarms, 

Like all thy deluded lovers, 
Clasped a serpent in his arms. 

Once, thy deep intrigues unknowing, 
I embarked upon the deep j 

Boisterous storms, dread horrors blowing, 
Roused me from lethargick sleep. 

Billows were around me roaring, 
When great Neptune's friendly aid, 

Me to Rome again restoring, 
There my grateful vows I paid. 



STANZAS 

ON RECEIVING A FROWN FROM CYNTHIA. 

A GLOOMY cloud in heaven appears, 

And shrouds the solar ray ; 
All Nature droops, and bursts in tears. 

And mourns the loss of day. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 95 

What wrath has sent the tempest down 

To gloom the azure sky ? 
Lo ! Cynthia's mien assumes a frown, 

And Colin heaves a sigh ! 

Yes, Cynthia frowns ! — ^in mourning clad 

Young Colin seeks the plain, 
And there in silent sorrow sad, 

Sighs, weeps, and sighs again. 

Ah ! luckless hour ! the lover cries ; 

Vain Hope ! no more beguile ! 
Ah ! seek no more, in Cynthia's eyes 

The sunbeam of her smile ! 

Once in the days of happier fate, 

In smiles she tripped the lea ; 
But I, with fondest pride elate. 

Thought all those smiles for me. 

Where once benignant beams were shed, 

Now sad displeasure lowers : 
On Colin's fond, devoted head, 

The storm, dark rollmg, showers. 

The fount of grief has now grown dry, 

And tears no more can flow ; 
No more can trickle from the eye, 

The streams of mental woe. 

Cynthia, behold a captive heart; 

Its real anguish see. 
Transcending all descriptive art ; 

It bleeds alone by thee ! 



96 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

So deep a wound can never close, 
The heart cannot endure, 

You opened all its bleeding woes. 
And you alone can cure. 

Then deign a gentle smile of grace ; 

On Colin's bosom shine ; 
And, raptured at so fair a face, 

Elysium will be mine I 



TRANSLATION 

OF THE NINTH ODE, THIRD BOOK, OF HORACE. 

Dialogue between Horace and Lydia. 

HORACE. 

W HEN no fond rival's favoured arms 
With rapture clasped thy snowy charms ; 
When but to me thy smile was given 
It warmed me like the smile of heaven. 
Thus blest, I envied not the state 
Of Persia's monarch rich and great. 

LYDIA. 

When Lydia' s smile allured thee more 
Than Chloe's sweet seducing power, 
Then did the cords of love unite 
Our hearts in mutual delight ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 9? 

Then so revered was Lydia's name, 
I envied not great Ilia's fame ! 

HORACE. 

The Cressian Chloe now detains 
My soul in fascinating chains : 
She tunes the harp's melodious strings, 
But with much sweeter musick sings : 
Could dying snatch my love from deatli, 
How gladly would I yield my breath ! 

LYDIA. 

Me, Calais, to love inspires ; 
Our bosoms glow with gentlest iires. 
In him has every graced combined — 
But, oh ! what charms adorn his nfiind ! 
I twice the pangs of death would bear, 
If Fate my Calais would spare ! 

HORACE. 

Say, what if former love aspire. 
And glow witli an intenser fire ? 
Say, what if Chloe's charms I spurn- 
Will Lydia to my arms return. 
And bid the Paphian queen again 
Unite us with a stronger chain ? 

LYDIA. 

Though light as cork, your passions reign, 
And rougher than the raging main ; 
Though Calais by far outvies 
The great enlightener of the skies ; 
Yet from his eager love I fly. 
To live with you, with you to die ! 



98 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



THE LAURELLED NYMPH. 

Addressed to Philenia. 

VV HERE famed Parnassus' lofty summits rise, 
With garlands wreathed, and seem to prop the skies, 
There bloomed the groves, where once the tuneful choir 
In boldest numbers waked the sounding lyre. 
Fast by the mount descends the sacred spring, 
Whose magick waters taught the world to sing. 
Hence men, inspired, first tuned the rural strain. 
And sung of shepherds and the peaceful plain. 
The beauteous virgin and Idalian grove. 
And all the pains and all the sweets of love ; 
But soon the Muse, with glowing rapture fired. 
Seized the bold clarion, and the world inspired j 
To arms, to arms, resounds from either pole, 
Steels every breast, and man's each daring soul. 
Wide Havock reigned ; the world with tumult shook ; 
Thick lightnings glared, and muttering thunders broke / 
The boisterous passions waged continual Avars ; 
The sun grew pale, and terror seized the stars. 
But, hark ! soft musick floats upon the gale ! 
'Tis Harmony herself, who chants the tale ! 
A strain so sweet, so elegantly terse. 
Joined with such lofty majesty of verse. 
Arrests Apollo's song-enraptui^ed ear, 
A nobler carol, than his own, to hear. 
The astonished muses cease their feebler song ; 
No more the tabor charms the village throng ; 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 99 

The aerial tribe in air suspend their wings ; 
All Nature's hushed ; for lo, Philenia suigs ! 
Pliilenia sings, and sings the soldier's toil, 
Blest with the lovely virgin's generous smile. 
The bards of old, who sung of wars and loves, 
Of iron ages, and Arcadian groves, 
Around Philenia's brow the laurel twine, 
And vie in honouring genius so divine. 
Hence, if in after age a bard should hope 
To gain those tints which grace the verse of Pope ; 
In Sorrow's gently sympathizing flow. 
To make each bosom feel another's woe ; 
Or Virtue's heavenly portrait to display, 
In the full light of beauty's golden ray j 
To sing of patriots in the martial strife. 
The gallant soldier and heroick chief ; 
To paint in colours that can never fade ; 
Let him invoke Philenia to his aid. 
Her smile shall bid these varied charms expand, 
As vernal flowers by gentlest zephyrs fanned. 
In her bold lines may admiration see 
Impartial Justice rule the fair decree. 
Not, like the sun, whose lustre shines on all, 
Do her diffusive panegyricks fall, 
Wliile Faction's idols meet repulsive shame. 
The wandering outcasts from the dome of Fame ; 
The patriot glories in his laurel crown. 
Decked with the deathless verdure of renown. 
To adulation's favming scribes belong, 
, With guile to captivate the giddy throng ; 
To rend from Honour's brow his laureat plume ; 
To trample down the generous stateman's tomb ; 



100 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

To gild with servile Flattery's dazzling beam, 

The imperial meteor of a baseless dream. 

But when Philenia charms the listening throng, 

'Tis Virtue's praise inspires the noble song, 

Her Muse, who oft her venturous bark had rode, 

On Learning's wide, immeasurable flood. 

Whose crowded canvass touched at every shore, 

New minres of golden letters to explore ; 

In Fancy's loom Pierian webs hath wrought. 

Decked with the varied pearls of splendid thought ; 

Perennial roses round the work appear, 

And all the beauties of the vernal year. 

She, like a Newton, in poetick skies, 

Shall e'er on Fame's triumphant pinions rise. 

When Death's cold slumbers shall have sealed that eye, 

Whose radiant smiles with solar splendours vie ; 

When that warm tongue, from which such musick flows, 

Shall in the tomb in quietude repose ; 

Thy deathless name through Envy's clouds shall burst, 

And bafile hoary Time's corroding rust. 

Then those fair portraits, which thy nause has drawn, 

Wliich the long gallery of Fame adorn., 

Through Nature's fated barriers shall break, 

Start into life, and all thy praises speak. 



fJOLLEGE EXERCISES. 101 



ODE TO COMPASSION, 

All hail, divine Compassion ! see 
Low at thy shrine, my bended knee ! 
Lend to my verse thy melting glow, 

And all the tender plaintiveness of woe ! 

The man who feels when others grieve, 
And loves the wretched to relieve, 

Enjoys more true delight, 
Than he, who in the fields of war 
Triumphant rolls liis thundering car, 

And gains the laurels of the fight ! 
Than he, whom shouting realms proclaim. 
The victor of mankind, the boast of Fame. 

Sweet Compassion ! noblest friend ; 
From thy native skies descend ; 
Gently breathing through the heart. 
All thy tender warmth impart ! 
Lure us from the gloomy cell, 
Where Indifference loves to dAvell ! 
Come with Truth, celestial maid, 
In her brightest robes arrayed ; 
And with Bliss, delightful prize, 
Blessing our enraptured eyes ! 

Behold I the heavens of heavens unbar 
Their golden portals wide ; 



102 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

In glory clad, thy train appear ; 

Upon the spheres they ride. 
Pleased with a Howard's glorious fame. 

Thou comest from realms above, 
To kindle at his tomb the flame 

Of universal love ; 
To crown with wreaths of endless bloom, 

And joy, that never fades, 
The man, whose heavenly paths illume 

Misfortune's dreary shades. 

Welcome, on earth, thy golden reign ! 
Now hideous vice, and tottering pain 

Shall quickly flee away. 

As hills of snow in face of day 
In winter their high heads display ; 
But, melted by the vernal beams. 
Their mass dissolves in liquid streams : 

So by thy genial ray 

Inspired, the frozen cheek of woe 
Shall feel soft Rapture's pleasing glow, 

And tears of joy around the world shall flow. 



THE GOLDEN AGE. 

TRANSLATED FROM OVId's METAMORPHOSES. 

W HEN Faith and Honesty with willing hand. 
Swayed the blest sceptre of the smiling land. 
Then bloomed the Golden Age ; then all mankind 
Beneath the bowers of sweet content reclined. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 103 

No brazen records kept the crowd in awe, 

For innocence supplied the want of law ; 

No conscious guilt disturbed each peaceful bower, 

No fierce tribunal grasped despotick power, 

Nor pale Revenge pursued with endless Ayrath ; 

But peace with flowers bestrewed life's rugged path. 

The lofty pine, which crowned the mountain's brow, 

Where clouds of green around the horizon flow, 

Had not yet sought the distant world t' explore ; 

Nor heai'd the ocean's wild tumultuous roar. 

Ambition had not yet inflamed mankind. 

Within their cots by sweet content confined. 

War's ruthless hand had not the rampart raised, 

No hostile standards o'er the meadows blazed, 

No threatening clarions taught the field to bleed, 

Nor brazen horns aroused the martial steed. 

No savage sword cut short the vital breath, 

Nor glittermg helmets braved the approach of death. 

In soft delight, far from the din of arms, 

The world reposed, secure from all alarms ; 

No shining share the fertile vallies tore. 

Spontaneous earth her rich luxuriance bore ; 

Divine Content, whose charms ne'er fail to please. 

Fed on the fruits, which bent the labouring trees. 

The smiling berries, which on mountains glowed. 

Or blush beneath the bi-ambles on the road, 

The sacred acorn, shaken by the wind. 

Supplied the daily wants of all mankind. 

Unceasing spring breathed fragrance round their bowers, 

And soft Zephyrus fanned spontaneous flowers. 

The earth untilled, with smiling fruitage glowed, 

And round the fields the yellow harvest flowed. 



104 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

The heavenly nectar from the skies was showered ; 
And streams of milk along the meadows poured ; 
The verdant oak with honey bathed the plain, 
And blest Content prolonged the golden reign. 



Addressed to Hamot, who presented the author with a bunch of roses, saying, 
she had preserved them a long while, and that they were the fairest of the 



OUCH bounteous flowerets from so fair a hand, 

The wannest thanks from Friendship's pen demand ; 

Ere yet the expanding buds perfumed the air, 

Blest with the nurture of thy tender care, 

The bloom they copied of celestial grace. 

The lovely pictures of thy lovelier face. 

Thine are those tints, which charm the admiring eye ; 

Thine the fair lustre of each fragrant dye. 

On the free bounty of thy smile they live, 

And to the world their borrowed splendour give- 

Thus planets glitter on the robe of night, ' 

And from the sun receive their silver light. 

The flower, which blooms beneath the vernal ray, 

Owes all its beauty to the orb of day ; 

For though the lily boasts its spotless form, 

Yet Sol's pure lustre gave it every charm. 

Thus mildly brilliant those effulgent eyes, 

Which bade the fainting rose m bloom to rise, 

Which each in Beauty's sky a golden sun, 

Claim all those plaudits, which the rose has won. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 105 

Then, Rapture, cease on Harriot's gift to gaze, 
And, Admiration, hold thy eager praise I 
For though e'en Justice this encomium deigns, 
That in its charms her faint resemblance reigns, 
Yet while her tongue such lavish praise bestows, 
In her, in her we view a fairer rose. 



VERSES 

TO A "YOUNG LADY, LATELY RECOVERED FROM SICKNESS. 

W iTji gloomy clouds of dismal dread, 

The horizon sullenly is bound ; 
The sun, obscured, weeps through the shade ; 
The zephyrs mourn along the ground, 
Where Darkness reigns, 
Where Woe's sad strains 
Wind o'er the plains. 

Vaulted with Terror's sable veil, ^ 

Fringed with the sunbeam's glossy hue. 
Deep lies the solitary vale, 

Where round the grove a rural crew. 
In smiling throng, 
With sweetest song. 
Charm Time along. 
14 



m 



106 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

Thus seated in the breezy shade, 

Before them in the winding vale, 
Appeared a sweetly pensive maid. 
Whose silence spoke the melting tale 
Of one, who trod 
From Health's abode, 
Misfortune's road. 

From her sad eye the tear of grief. 
Unknown, gushed silently along ; 
The swains were moved to her relief, 
And Pity Avept amid the throng. 
They thought their eyes, 
Saw, in disguise, 
One from the skies. 

Lovely, as Morn, who weeps in dews ; 
Mild as the fragrant breath of Even ; 
Though streams of woe her eyes suffuse, 
She shone the silver queen of heaven. 
Dian her guide, 
Fair Beauty's pride 
In sense outvied. 

While thus the swains, in rapture's trance, 

Her lonely wandering steps surveyed, 
Two seraphs on the wing advance, 
Contendhig for the heaven-born maid. 
So great the prize. 
That e'en the skies 
Viewed with surprise ! 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 10/ 

One of the seraphs thus began : 

" My name is Fame ; on earth I sway ; 
" The glory, pride, and boast of man, 

" The world's proud kings my voice obey. 
" From pole to pole, 
" My glories roll ; 
" I rule the whole. 

" Long have I made yon fair my pride, 

" The brightest gem my crown adorned ; 
" Her name Oblivion's power defied, 
" And all his low attempts has scorned. 
" Forbear your claim, 
" Ne'er will her name 
" Descend from Fame. 

" But say, if you can boast to share 

" The affections of yon turtle dove, 
" Why, with the storms of bleak despair, 
" Do you afflict her from above ? 
" To force is vain ; 
" Where'er I reign, 
" No slaves complain." 

The angel sent from heaven replied ; 

" We doom the fair to Mercy's road, 
" To wean her love from mortal pridcj 
" To bliss supreme in heaven's abode. 
" To heaven restore, 
" A mind too pure 
" For earth's wild shore. 



t08 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 

" Angels with envious eyes have seen, 

" Earth in her smiles supremely blest." 

He spoke ; the swains beheld the scene, 

And admiration swelled each breast. 

Sweet queen of worth, 

Heaven gave to earth 

Thy angel birth ! 

Loud echo rent the joyful skies: 

" Sweet visitant, with us remain ; 
" Where'er you smile, Misfortune flies, 
" And Heaven enraptures all the plain. 
" Hail, to thee. Fame ; 
" Long may'st thou claim 
" The virtuous dam.e 1" 

They sung ; the cloudy mists retire ; 
The azure skies in smiles expand ; 
Burst through the clouds, the solar fire 
Flamed in wide lustre round the land. 
From sickly fears 
The fair appears. 
Hail, golden years ! 



TEANSLATED FROM SAPPHO. 

W ELL may the happy youth rejoice, 
Who, to thy arms a welcome guest, 
Hears the soft musick of thy voice, 
And on thy smiles may freely yccs^, 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. * 109 

As gods above, securely blest, 

He envies not the throne of Jove ; 
Endeai'ing graces win his breast. 

And sweetly charm him into love. 

Ah, adverse fate ! unhappy hour 1 

With horror, at thy form I start ! 
My faltermg tongue forgets its power, 

And struggling passions rend the heart I 

Quick flames enkindle in my veins ; 

Impervious clouds my eyes surround ; 
Deep sighs I heave ; wild Frenzy reigns ; 

My ears with dismal murmurs sound ! 

My colour,»like the lily, fades ; 

Rude tremours seize my tlirobbing frame ; 
A gelid sweat my limbs pervades, 

And strives to quench the vital flame ;. 
My quivering pulse forgets to play ; 
Enraged, confused, I faint away ! 



ODE TO WINTER. 

JN o fragrance fills the playful breeze ; 

No flowers the fields adorn : 
But bare and leafless are the trees. 

And dreary is the latvn. 
For bliss-destroying Winter reigns, 

The Lapland tyrant of the plains. 



110 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

The crystal lakes unruffled stream. 
With face serene, as even, 

Whose surface in the solar beam, 
Shone with the smile of heaven ; 

Chilled by cold Winter's frigid sway, 

Reflect no more the face of day ! 

The nymphs no long-er trip the field, 
Nor, from the crowded green, 

Fly, in some grove to lie concealed, 
Yet hope their flight was seen. 

No more, amid the sylvan dance, 

Smiles I'ound the soul-subduing glance I 

And sylvan Pleasure's voice is hushed : 
And the sweet I'oseate dye, 

Which on the cheek of Nature blushed. 
No more delights the eye. 

Oh 1 thus the cheek of Beauty fades. 

When wintry age its bloom pervades ! 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. HI 



A SONG. 

THE LASS OF EDEN GROVE. 

In Eden grove there dwells a maid, 

Adorned by every grace ; 
The pearls, that deck the dewy shade, 
Fairer confess her face. 

The sun has spots, the rose has thorns, 

And poisons mix with love ; 
But every spotless charm adorns 
The Lass of Eden grove. 

The sparkling, soft, cerulean eye ; 

Bright Virtue's starry zone ; 
The smile of Spring's Favonian sky ; 

These charms are all her own. 

The sun has spots, &c. 

The frozen veins of age have felt 

New youth in Eden grove ; 
Her smiles, like spring, the frost can melt, 

And warm the heart with love. 

The sun has spots, Sec. 

The monarch quits his dazzling throne, 

And seeks her rural lot, 
To find in her a richer crown ; 

A palace in a cot ! 

The sun has spots, &c. 



112 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

While toy-enamoured eyes admire 

The gaudy bubble, Fame ; 
Her virtues brighter joys inspire, 

And softer honours claim. 

The sun has spots. Sec. 

Her charms the noblest laurel prove, 

The hero's meed outshine ; 
And round the brow of faithful love, 

Perennial garlands twine. 

The sun has spots, &c. 

When Cupid all his darts has hurled, 

From her he draws supplies. 
And Hymen's flambeau lights the world 

From her resplendent eyes. 

The sun has spots. Sec, 

To her, sweet nymph, the captive soul, 

Pours forth its votive lay ; 
'Tis bliss to own her soft control ; 
'Tis rapture, to obey. 

The sun has spots, the rose has thorns, 

And poisons mix with love ; 
But every- spotless charm adorns 
The Lass of Eden grove. 



PART II. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



15 



MOT£. 

In this Division of the 'work will be found most of the 
Pieces') firoduced by Mr. Paine , on various occasions.^ from 
July 1792, tvhen he took his first degree, till a short tiine before 
his death, with the exception of the regular Poems<) Odes, and 
Songs, which will form a series by themselves. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



EDWIN AND EMMA, 



AN EPITHALAMIUM. 



xIail, to the natal hour of nuptial joy, 

When life, from Nature's second birth, begins ; 

When the fond lover, and the damsel coy. 

Are born in wedlock, Love's connubial twins ! 

Ingenuous Edwin ! whom pale Envy'syro^yn, 
For thee half-brightened to a smile, applauds ; 

Who, mid the leaves of Harvard's bay-wrought crowilj 
Entwin'st the wreath, which female taste awards. 

Enchanting Emma, whose translucent face, 

Like heaven's expanse, a ground work was designed. 

Where Nature's hand her brightest gems might place, 
To shine a picture o£the perfect mind. 

filest, favoured pair, of rival charms the pride, 
By Fortune nursed, by gay Refinement bred ; 

Unconscious Beauty, modest Worth allied. 
By Cupid's hand to Hymen's temple led. 



116 EDWIN AND EMMA. 

Whate'er in Love's bright landscape charmed your view. 

May you, in sweet reality, enjoy ; 
Feel all, that Hope of rapture ever drew ; 

Live all, that Fancy ever dreamt of joy ! 

When man primaeval walked with parent Heaven, 
Eden his table crowned, and Eve his bed ; 

But, when by Fate's sad alternation driven. 
He chose the bride, and from the garden fled. 

More happy Edwin ! 'tis thy lot assigned, 
Not, Adam-like, to waver which to leave ; 

But, favoured youth, to find them both combined, 
Thy Eve, an Eden ; and thy Eden, Eve ! 

Auspicious union ! with thy silken sweets, 

Should sensual life her sackcloth joys compare ; 

The best morceau, that Epicurus eats. 
Is but a tear-wet crust— a beggar's fare ! 

Lo ! o'er yon night-wrapped precipice afar, 
Gay, smiling, lingers Love's benignant queen ' 

There, rapt in ecstacy, she checks her car, 
To feast her eyes upon the bridal scene I 

A scene, so bright, that well might choirs above 

Envy the lavish bliss, to mortals given ; 
Pant for the raptures of connubial love, 

And wish, that wedlock was no sin in heaven I 

Oh, happy pair, to every blessing born I 

For you, may life's calm stream, unruffled, run ; 

For you, its roses bloom, " without a thorn," 
And bright as morning, shine its evening sun ! 



EDWIN AND EMMA. 11 f 

Yours be each joy, that egsy affluence brings ; 

Each tranquil pleasure, that esteem can prove ; 
Each tender bliss, that from Aff"ection springs, 

And all the thrilling luxuries of love. 

May not a tear in Emma's eyelid melt, 

But that, which flows to meet her Edwin's kiss 5 
May not a throb in Edwin's breast be felt. 

But that, which palpitates for Emma's bliss ! 

And when life's drama, like some worn out toy, 
No more shall dazzle with its wonted charms ; 

Like old Ancliises from the flames of Troy, 
May Age retire in young Affection's anns ! 

Soft as the ringdove breathes her dying coo, 

Serene, as Hesper gleams the dusky heath, 
Be Emma's sigh, that wafts the world adieu ; 

Be Edwin's smile that gilds the lip of death. 

But, Penseroso, hvish thy dirge-toned string ! 

Each sprightly note should trill a fuge of mirth ; 
And, ere their souls to yon bright skies you wing-i 

Let them enjoy a prior heaven on earth I 



118 A MONODY TO THE 



A MONODY, 



T*0 THE MEMORY OF W. H. BROWN- 

IT ALE sleeps the moonbeam on the shadowy surf ; 

Lorn to the gale, elegiack willows wave ; 
Cold-glistenuig, fall the night-dews on the tm-f ; 

And Nature leans upon her Pollio's grave. 

Clouds veil the moon — 'tis Nature garbed in woe ; 

The willow droops — 'tis plaintive Nature sighs ; 
The night-dews fall — ^they are the tears, that flow 

On Pollio's flower-wreathed urn, from Nature's eyes. 

Yes ! — he was doating Nature's favourite son ; 

The fostering muses fondly nursed the child ; 
His infant prattle into numbers run., 

And Genius, from his opening eyelids, smiled. 

In life maturing, Fancy's attick germ 

The stalk of judgment with its blossoms graced j 
Nor feared corroding Envy's latent worm, 

The fi'ost of criticks, nor the drought of taste. 

At length full beamed the summer" of his prime ; 

No fixed star — a rolling sun, he shone ; 
Now glanced his rays on Beauty's temperate clime ; 

Now flamed his orb o'er Gi-andeur's toriid zone. 



MEMORY OF W. H. BROWN. 119 

As burnt the bush to Moses' raptured gaze, 

Nor lost its verdure 'mid the flame divine ; 
Thus bloomed his song in rhetorick's splendid blaze, 

Nor drooped the vigour of his nervous line. 

With charms to move, with dignity to awe, 

His tragick muse the lyre of pathos strung ; 
Loud wailed the horrors of fraternal war. 

And dying Andre* struggled on her tongue. 

la either eye, a liquid mirror moved ; 

A tender ray illumed each crystal sphere ; 
While thus she sung the hapless chief beloved. 

His life, the smile received— his fate, the tear. 

With features, formed the moral laugh to hit, 

Thalia knew his useful scene to frame ; 
And, scorning ribaldry, that trull of wit, 

Preserved the chastity of lettered fame. 

Ithaca'sf queen, his comick pencil drew, 

Whomi suitor-hosts, so long, in vain, adored ; 

Who, to the widowed bed of wedlock true. 
Lived Sorrow's nun at riot's festive board. 

His prose, like song, without its numbers, glowed ; 

Correctly negligent, with judgment bold : 
Here reasoned sentiment, there humour flowed ; 

Now flashed the thought, and now the period rolled. 



* Mr. Brown chose this unfortunate Officer for the hei'o of a tragedy, which 
received the highest approbation of many gentlemen of taste. 

•j- He wrote a comedy, entitled Penelope^ in the style of the West-Indian. 



J20 A MONODY, 5cc. 

Swift, as the light to Nature's suburbs wings ; 

Quick, as the wink of Heaven's electrick eye ; 
Lo ! PoUio's muid, with subtle vigour, springs ; 

And volumes, sketched in thoughts, perspective lie« 

Not Cato-Iike, a miser of applause, 
He loved the genius, that eclipsed his own ; 

Nor dreamt, like Johnson, that by Nature's laws, 
He reigned the Sultan of the classick throne. 

To censure, modest-^generous, to commend j 
To veteran bards he left of taste the van ; 

A keen eyed critick — still, a tender friend ; 
An idol'd poet — -but, a modest man. 

Such Pollio was !— .but heaven, with hand divine, 
Deducts in peiiod, what it adds in boon ; 

Life's April day, with brighter beams, may shine, 
But meets a sunset, in a cloud, at noon. 

Felt ye the gale ? — It was the Sirock blast, 

That spreads o'er burning climes Death's gelid sleep ! 

Hear ye that groan ? 'tis dying Pollio's last ; 

And Friendship, Genius, Virtue, speechless, weep ! 

" Oh, Pollio, Pollio !" — all Parnassus cries !— 
Their breasts the grief-delirious muses beat ; 

Torn from their brows^ the witheruig garland dies ; 
And drooping groves this funeral dirge repeat ; 

" Lamented Pollio, o'er thy sacred tomb, 
'* The laurel-sprig we plant, the turf to shade ; 

" Bathed by our tears, its spreading boughs shall bloom, 
" 'Till Fame's most verdant amaranths shall fade ! 



SELF-COMPLACENCY. 121 

" No towering marble marks thy humble dust, 
" Yet there shall oft our pensive choir repair ; 

" Thy modest grave can boast no sculptured bust, 
" Yet Nature stands a weeping statue there 1" f 



With these verses Mr. Paine concludes a prose Essay on t!ie Pleasures of 
SELF-COMPLACENCY. 

JjET no rude Care, with anxious thoughts, invade, 
Nor print her footstep in my chosen shade ! 
O'er the wide world I've traced the tour of day, 
Where restless Love has taxight my feet to stray ; 
If Anna's taste this favourite spot approve, 
I'll drop the Scythian, and forget to rove. 
All hail, ye deserts, bend a pitying ear, 
A sound unknown, a human voice to hear ! 
Wave your tall brows, to hail a stranger-guest, 
Whose throbbing bosom seeks in you a rest. 
Proud earth, adieu ! Your smile I ask no more, 
Nor all your sordid, soul-contracting ore ! 
The Syren's bowl, and pleasure's deep abyss 
Yield to the crystal fount a tranquil bliss. 
The purest joy will ever love to dwell 
In the lone confines of the hermit's cell ; 
On him the day lamp sheds its mildest beam, 
His board the forest, and his cup the stream. 
Like him, the menial arts of life forsook, 
To hold pure converse with the babbling brook ; 
16 



122 SELF-COMPLACENCY. 

Here let me rove amid these wild retreats. 
The bee of Nature's yet mitasted sweets j, 
Here let my feet, o'erwearied, find repose. 
My head a pillow, and my griefs a close ! 
The simple pleasures of uncultured earth 
Can please no palate of exotick birth ; 
Lost is the social fire, with all its joys, 
Lost is the splendid dome, with all its toys. 
A long adieu ! to all the world calls great, 
Fame's glittering baubles, and the pomp of state 1 
Tar from the tumults of the roaring sea. 
The waves of Fortune roll no more for me. 
Far from the vultures of corroding strife, 
And all the senseless butterflies of life, 
Here have I flown to trace new soils of bliss, 
And clasp rude Nature in her loose undress £■ 
Her naked graces Rapture's throb impart, 
And spurn the pencil and the veil of ait. 
Beauty ne'er blushed, of harmless man afraid. 
Nor asked a fig-leaf in the secret shade. 
Oft in the modish circle, have I seen 
The thoughtless canvass of a pictured mien ; 
And grown genteel, by Fashion's dire constraints, 
The well-laced spider in a hectick faints. 
Art can but mimick ; Heaven alone must give 
That innate force, by which the graces live. 
The form and colour artists oft disclose. 
But who has sketched the fragrance of the rose ? 
Ye dames, ambitious of applauding eyes, 
Shall vile cosmeticks tempt the dubious prize ? 
Refine the heart, nor stoop to arts so base ; 
Sense never sparkled in a painted face I 



SELF-COMPLACENCY. 123 

Mine be the nymph, whom native charms adorn ; 

Who looks on Fashion's painted mask with scorn j 

Who never spread the Syren's artful guise 

To chain attention, or entrance sui'prise ; 

Who ne'er would wish the rising scale of fame, 

If she, ascending, sunk a sister's name ; 

Who never heard, without a kindling glow, ** 

The boast of Virtue's too successful foe. 

Such be the fair, to whom my hopes wouM rise, 

Whose soul gives language to her sparkling eyes ; 

Whose smile the gloomiest scene of life can cheer, 

With rapture glisten, or dissolve a tear ; 

Whose charms with softness clothe her modest r 'in. 

As light pellucid, and as heaven sferene ; 

Whose lovely converse sweetens every boon; 

Whose cheek the morning, and whose mind the noon= 

Ah I lovely Anna ! these are traits divine, 

And Fancy's pencil glows with charms, like tlune ! 

Come then, thou dearest, heaven-congenial maid, 

And rove with me the grove, the hill and glade I 

Behold those rocks of huge colossal size, 

Whose cloud-girt tops appear to prop the skies ; 

Like thr n, above the world, we'll soar sublime ; 

Like th». i, our love shall brave the rage of Time ! 

Here rich Luxuriance waves her ample wing, 

And spreads a harvest mid perpetual spring ; 

But ne'er can Nature's flowery charms endear, 

If Anna, Nature's blossom, be not here. 

Come then, my fair, and bless my lonesome houi%^ 

And grace the palace arbour of the bowers. 

All Nature waits my Anna to receive ; 

A second Eden wants a second Eve, 



124 TO THE LATE THOMAS BRATTLE, ESQ. 



The following Stanzas were addressed to the late Thomas Brattle, Esq. soon 
after he had embellished his seat at Cambi'idge, in a manner highly cred- 
itable to the taste of that worthy gentleman. 

W here'er the vernal bower, the autumnal field. 

The summer arbour, and the winter fire ; 
Where'er the charms, which all the seasons yield. 

Or Nature's gay museum can inspire, 

Delight the bosom, or the Fancy please, 

Or life exalt above a splendid dream ; 
There, Brattle's fame shall freight the grateful breeze. 

Each grove resound it, and reflect each stream. 

!feach bough, that waves o'er brown Pomona's plains. 
Each bud, that blossoms in the ambrosial bower, 

Nursed by this great Improver's art, obtains 
A nobler germin, and a fairer flower. 

The rural vale a kind asylum gave. 

When Peace the seats of eraiined woe forsook ; 

Retirement found an Athens in a cave. 

And man grew social with the babbling brook. 

Here, happy Brattle, 'twas thy envied place, 

In gay undress fair Nature to surprise ; 
By Art's slight veil to heighten every grace, 

And bid a Vauxhall from a marish rise. 

The airy hill-top, and the Dryad's bower, 
No more shall tempt our sportive nymphs to rove ; 



ADDRESSED TO MISS B. 125 

This willow-shade shall woo the social hour, 
And Brattle's mall surpass Arcadia's grove. 

Fair Friendship, lovely virgin, here resort ; 

Here with thy charms the joy -winged mom beguile : 
Thy eyes shall glisten eloquence to thought. 

And teach the cheek of hopeless gloom to smile. 

Here too, thy modest damsels oft shall pass. 

Yield a soft splendour to the evening beam, 
Gaze at the image in the watery glass. 

And blush new beauty to the flattering stream: 

While the pleased Naiad, watching their return, 

As oft at morn her sportive limbs she laves, 
Hears their loved voice, and leaning on her urn, 

Stops the smooth current of her silver waves. 



ADDRESSED TO MISS B. 

Jr ooR is the friendless master of the globe. 
And keen the ingrate's heart-inserted probe ; 
But keener woes that wretch is doomed to prove, 
The poorer hermit of unfriended love ! 

Oh, woman ! subtle, lovely, faithless sex ! 
Born to enchant, thou studiest to perplex ; 
Adored as queen, thou play'st the tyrant's part, 
And, taught to govern, would'st enslave the heart. 



126 TO CLORA. 

Now, cold as ice-plant, fickle as the wind, 
Nor pity melts, nor pride can fix thy Diind ; 
Now, warm and faithful as the cooing dove, 
Thou breatli'st no wish, and sing'st no note, but love I 

In thee has Nature such elastick power. 
She changes seasons, as she turns the hour ; 
In one short day, you roll through eveiy sign, 
From Passion's tropics, to Decorum's line. 

Now from above, in vertic-heat you blaze, 
And melting stoicks half enamoured gaze ; 
Now, dim from far your rays obliquely gleam, 
And freeze the current of the poet's stream. 

Thus, through our system, Nature's frolick child, 
Fair woman, roves, a comet, bright and wild j 
Supreme in art, our purblind sex she rules : 
Wits may be lovers—lovers must be fools. 



TO CLORA. 

JL Hou nymph satirick, for a nymph thou art, 
Whose varying lyre, like thy once doubtful sex, 
Can with its tones the nicest ear peiplex, 

And numb with wonder the still pondering heart I 

Thou, whom Menander joys to call a nymph, 
Whose lips have freely quaffed the sacred lymph j 
Who erst, in sweet Eliza's lovely guise, 
Didst bless the vision of these mental eyes. 



TO CLORA. 127 

Thou injured maid, to gain whose secret name, 

Intent I've listened with arrected ear ; 
Patrolled the whispering gallery of Fame, v 

And walked the watch-tower of the Avinds to heaf t 

Thou injured maid, to thee this verse belongs ; 
The lyre, that caused, shall expiate thy wrongs ! 

When first the soft Eliza tuned her lyre. 

In notes, the pathos of whose dulcet swell 

Might charm a Zeno with its potent spell, 
And the fond passion, which she felt, inspire ; 

Enan;ioured Pride, from Fancy's lull-top, heard 
The softened musick of the fluttering strain ; 

While Echo, prattling like the human bird, 
Rechanting, chanted every note again. 

But Judgment, wrinkled with a frown severe, 

Checked the young rapture, which thy lays inspired ; 
Though Hope's pleased eye the page proscribed admired, 

And shed upon the sweet forbidden fruit a tear. 

Weak Jealousy outspread her saffron wing. 

And, through the infection of the jaundiced hue, 

Saw from Eliza's garb a monster spring, 
In voice a Circe, and m poison too : 

A magick chantress, from Avhose Hyblean tongue, 
While fell the honied melody of praise, 
Alas ! impervious to the soul's fixed gaze, 

A vocal death from everv note she flune ! 



128 , SONNETS. 



SONNET TO ELIZA. 

Ah ! do the Muses, once so coy and shy, 

Pursue Menander, hard as legs can lay ? 
By Heavens, Menander swears, he will not fly. 

But meet then- gentle ladyships half way ! 

What ! shall this coward bard turn pale with fear, 
When clinging round his knees these virgins lie ? 

Is he afraid of drovsming in a tear, 
Or being blown to atoms by a sigh ? 

No, dear Eliza, with expanded arms 

I turn to clasp the fair one that pursues ; 
But, struck with such divinity of charms. 

Shrink from alliance with so bright a muse. 

Yet weep not, that from Hymen's yoke I've slipt my neck, 
For you've escaped a bite, while I have lost a spec. 



SONNET TO BELINDA. 

Jtathetick chantress ! Nature's feeling child ! 

Thou, like thy parent, rulest a variant sphere 
Where Judgment ripens, Fancy blossoms wild ; 

Thy page the landscape, and thy mind the year. 

Oft in the rainbow's heaven-enchasing beams, , 
Thy hand, sweet limner, many a pencil dips ; 

And oft receive Pieria's sacred streams 
New inspiration from Belinda's lips. 



MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 129 

Pure, as the bosom of the vu^gin rose, 

Blooms the rich verdure of a heart sincere ; 

And e'en Belinda's smile more radiant glows, 
Through the clear mirror of the pearly tear. 

But, ah ! her lyre in hushed oblivion sleeps, 
While Edwin mounis, and all Parnassus weeps. 



During the yeai*s 1792 and 1793, Mr. Paine, beside othei* contributions to that 
Miscellany, published in the MassRchusetts IVIagazine such pieces, as appear- 
ed there under the signature of Meuander. As those pieces are addressed 
to a lady whose title to the first place among our native poetesses is undis- 
puted and indisputable ; and as, in order to understand Menander, it is indis- 
pensably necessary, that Fhilenia may be easily consulted, no apology is 
required for inserting Mrs. Morton's verses in this collection. The 
first piece of this correspondence, which was originally published in the 
Massachusetts Mercury of February, 179;i, as were also the second and third 
pieces, alludes to a Poem entitled, " Beacon-Mill," supposed to be then 
preparing by Philenia for the press. 

MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 



JjLEST be the task, along the'stream of Fame, 
To waft the Patriot's and the Plero's name ! 
Blest be the Muse, Avhose soft Orphean breath 
Recalls their memories from the realms of death ! 
And blest Philenia, noblest of the choir, 
Whose halloAved hands attune Columbia's lyre ! 
'Tis thine to bid the deathless laurel bloom. 
And shade departed Virtue's sacred tomb ; 
While pruned by tliee, its loftier branches grow, 
And yield new honours to the dust below ! 



130 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 

'Tis thine, like Joshua, sun of Glory stand ! 

And gild the urn of Freedom's martyred band ! 

While in thy song, with charms illustrious, shine 

Gods, shaped like men, and men, like gods, divine ! 

Hail, lofty Beacon, hill of Freedom, hail I 

Thy torch her herald to the distant vale ! 

What various scenes, from thy commanding height. 

The horizon paint — the turning eye delight ! 

Loud Ocean here, with undulating roar, 

Calls daring souls to worlds unknown before ; 

While mazing there, like Fancy's wanton child, 

Charles curls along, irregular and wild. 

Here, Commerce, decked in all the wings of Time, 

Courts the fleet breeze, and ranges every clime ; 

There the gay villa lifts its lofty head, 

The social mansion, and the humbler shed. 

But nobler honours to thy fame belong, 

And owe their splendour to Philenia's song. 

Beacon shall live the theme of future lays ; 

Philenia bids— obsequious Fame obeys. 

Beacon shall live, enbalmed in verse sublime, 

The new Parnassus of a nobler clime. 

No more the fount of Helicon shall boast 

Its peerless waters, or its suitor-host ; 

To thee shall every fabled muse aspire. 

And learn new musick from Pliilenia's lyre. 

No more the flying steed the bard shall bear, 

Through the wild regions of poetick air ; 

On nobler gales of verse his wings shall rise, 

While Beacon's eagle wafts him through the skieS, 

'Tis here Philenia's muse begins her flight, 

As Heaven elate, extensive as the light : 



MENANDER TO PHTLENIA. 131 

Here, like this bird of Jove, she mounts the wind, 

And leaves the clouds of vulgar bards behind. 

Her tuneful notes, in tones naellifluous flow, 

With charms more various, than the coloured bow. 

Here, softly sweet, her liquid measures play. 

And mildest zephyrs gently sigh away ; 

There, towering numbers stalk, majestick rise, 

Like ocean storm, and lighten like the skies. 

While here, the gay Canary charms our ears, 

There, the lom Philomel dissolves in tears. ^ 

While here, the deep, grave verse slow loiters on, 

There, the blythe lines in swift meanders run. 

Thus to each theme responds her echoing lay; 

Bold, without rashness ; without trifling, gay : 

Serene, yet nervous ; easy, yet sublime ; 

With modulation's unaffected chime ; 

Soft, without weakness ; without frenzy, warm ; 

The varying shade of Nature's varying form. 

Let souls, elated by the pomp of praise, 

The arch triumphal, or the busto raise ; 

Bid marble, issuing into life, proclaim 

Their bubble greatness in the ear of Fame ! 

Gay trifles, pictured out on Glory's shore. 

Which Time's first rising billow leaves no more ! 

'Tis thine, Philenia, loveliest muse, to raise 

A firmer monumeiit of nobler praise ! 

Thou shalt survive, when Time shall whelm the bust, 

And lay the pyramids of Fame in dust. 

Unsoiled by years, shall thy pathetick verse 

Melt Memory's eye upon the Pati'iot's hearse ; 

And while each distant age and clime admire. 

The funeral honours of thy epiek lyre, 



132 PHILENIA TO MENANDER. 

What Hero's bosom would not wish to bleed, 
That you might sing, and raptured ages read ? 
*TiIl the last page of Nature's volume blaze, 
Shall live the tablet, graven with thy lays ! 



PHILENIA TO MENANDER. 

JjLEST Poet ! whose Eolian lyre 
Can wind the varied notes along, 

While the melodious Nine inspire 
The graceful elegance of song. 

Who now with Homer's strength can rise, 
Then Avith the polished Ovid move ; 

Now swift as rapid Pindar flies, 

Then soft as Sappho's breath of love. 

To nobler themes attune that strain 
Whose magick might the soul subdue, 

Calm the wild frenzies of the brain. 
And every fading hope renew. 

Ne'er can my timid Muse aspire, 

To wake the harp's majestick string ; 

Nor with Menander's " epick" fire. 
The deeds of godlike heroes sing. 

My lute, with many a willow bound, 
Flings the lorn pathos to the gale ; 

While o'er the modulated sound, 
The sighs of Sympathy prevail. 



FHILENIA TO MENAKDER. 133 

'Tis for thy eagle mind to tower 

Triumphant on the wing of Fame ; 
To dash the idiot brow of Power, 

And waft the Hero's laurelled name ; 

To sketch the full immortal scene, 

Each mental and each pictured view ; 
Meandering Charles embowered in green, 

The warrior^s turf impearled with dew ; 

The hapless maid whose plighted truth, 

And peerless beauties could not save 
The brave, heroick, victim -youth, 

Dishonoured by a felon-grave. 

Where the red hunter chased his prey, 

The hand of culturing Science reigns ; 
Where forests arched the brow of day, 

The temple lights its glittering vanes. 

Such are the themes, thou minstrel blest ! 

That to thy classick lyre belong, 
While Genius fires thy passioned breast 

With all the eloquence of song. 

Thine be the chief, whose deeds sublime 

Shall through the world's wide mansion beam, 

Unsullied by the breath of Time, 
Exhaustless as his native stream. 

Divine Menander, strike the string ; 

With all thy sun-like splendour shine ; 
The deeds of godlike heroes suig, 

And be the palm of Genius thine ! 



134 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 



MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 

X HE Star, that paves the blue serene, 
Or sparkles on the brow of even, 

Courts from tlie sun that lucid mien. 

Which gems the glittering mine of heaven : 

The breeze, that spreads its Cassia wing, 
Pei'fumes the breath of scentless air 

From rich bouquets, which jocund Spring 
Selects from Nature's gay parterre : 

Thus too, Philenia, muse supreme, 
Whose clear, reflecting pages shine. 

Like the translucent, crystal stream, 
The mirror of a soul divine : 

Thus, from thy lyre, Menander's ear 
The song-inspired vibration caught ; 

Thus, from thy hand, his temples v.'ear 
A Avreath, which thou alone hast wrought. 

To thee his muse aspired witli pride. 
And sealed her carol with thy name, 

Whose signet gave, what Heaven denied, 
A passport at the door of Fame. 

True merit shines with native light, 
Obscurest shades ne'er cloud its blaze ; 

For, diamond like, it gilds the night, 
And dazzles with unborrowed rays. 



MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 13S 

Hence, with a zeal of equal flame, 

The world has with Philenia vied, 
While Admiration winged her fame, 

And modest Merit blushed to hide. 

But, ah, thy lavish praise forbear 1 

*Twere madness to believe it due ; 
For none, but Nature's fondest care, 

Deserves a glance of Fame from you. 

To me no charms of verse belong ; 

The tints of every classick grace, 
Mild Contemplation, nurse of song. 

Beamed from thy muse-illumined face. 

When thy " lorn pathos" fills the gale. 

Wild Fancy learns of Truth to weep, 
Romance forgets her tragick tale. 

And Werter lulls his griefs to sleep. 

Serene, amid the bursting storm. 

You check the frenzied passion's scope, 
And, radiant as an angel form. 

Smile on the death-carved urn of Hope. 

Thy magick tears leave Slander mute. 

They melt the Stoick heart of snow ; 
And every willow on thy lute. 

Has proved a laurel for thy brow. 



136 SONNET TO PHILENIA. 



SONNET 



TO PHILENIA, ON A STANZA, IN HER ADDRESS TO MYRA 



The Stanza, which suggested this Sonnet, is highly ercomiastick on Mr. 
Paine. It is here given from the Massachusetts Magazine of Feb. 1793. 

" Since first Affliction's dreary frown 

•' Gloomed the bright summer of my days, 
" Ne'er has my bankrupt bosom known 

*' A solace, like his peerless praise." 



X HY " bosoiTx bankrupt !" — fair Peru divine 
Of every mental gem, that e'er has shone, 

In dazzled Fancy's intellectual mine, 
Or ever spangled Vii'tue's radiant zone. 

Thy " bosom bankrupt 1" — Nature, sooner far, 
Shall roll, exhausted, flowerless springs away ; 
Leave the broad eye of noon, without a ray, 

And strip the path to heaven of every star. 

Thy " bosom bankrupt !"— Ah, those sorrows cease, 
Which taught us, how to weep, and how" admii'e ; 

The tear, that falls to soothe thy wounded peace. 
With rapture glistens o'er thy matchless lyre, 

Ind and Golconda, in ow^Jirm combined. 

Shall sooner bankrupt, than Philenia's mind. 



I'D MENANDER. 13 7 



\ 



THE COUNTRY GIRL TO MENANDER-. 

V Es ! 'twas thy numbers, sailing on the breeze, » 
Floating in rich luxuriance, 'mongst the trees, 
That caught my ear, as heedlessly I strayed, 
O'er the soft velvet of the verdant glade. , ♦ 

^Twas thy own trembling lyre, I knew it well, i 
That gave the magick spring, the glowing s^^^eBij 
That, borne on Avings seraphick, glided by,/, •i- '\ 
And filled my soul, with richest melody. / [f U] 
Oft, have I heard thy rapturous, treasui'edfSltroii^j ^^^^^ 
When roving careless, 'midst th? dewy plaint ; C— -^*^ 
Oft, has thy well known lay joyed my rapt soul, ^'^». • 

When sunk unnoticed, 'neath the rising knoll ; 
Whilst catching from afar the golden note, _„- 

I've bid my praises, on the zephyrs float. 

Amid thick woods, and close embowering shades, <^^ ^^^^3^ 

Stupendous rocks, and verdant flowery glades, 4^ '^^^^ 

I've heard thy matchless, thy resistless strains, 

Whilst lilies spread them o'er the lengthening plains. *^^ 

To thee unknown, except by kindred fire. 
That taught me hovv^ to love, and how t' admire, 
I've hailed, have sung- — aaid oft have sought to gain. 
One sweet responsive chord, to my dull strain. 
Lost to all thoughts, or cares, for other's lays, 
Philenia's brow alone thou crown'st with bays ; 
To her rich mine a monthly tribute send'st, 
Nor to a younger vot'ry ever lend'st 
A single warbling note of love, or praise. 
Though sought, though urged, in ev'ry ardent gaze. 
18 



138 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 



STANZAS 

TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 
t 

JSlest nymph unknown ! fair minstrel of the plain I 
When lyres of swelling grandeur cease to please, 

Shall c^iarm thy simple, nature-breathing strain, 
Where sweetens Beauty's tone mellifluous ease. 

Coerced by Fate, my Muse had sighed farewell, 

A long farewell to all Apollo's train ; 
But thou hast^harmed her from Retii'ement's cell, 

And strung her loosened,^tuneless chords again. 

Thus while pale Morpheus walks his midnight rounds, 
Soft Musick's echoing voice the ear invades ; 

And, Orpheus-like, with life renewing sounds, 
Recalls the soul from Sleep's unconscious shades. 

Say, in what region, what Arcadian skies j 
What ville Elysian, what Castalian grove ; 

Where Tempean bowers, and Attick Edens rise, 
The school of Genius, and the lap of Love ? 

Oh ! where, O ! tell me, where is thy retreat ? 

What myrtles twme their arms to shade thy path ? 
What Naiad's grotto forms thy mid-day seat ? 

What bank thy couch, what envied stream thy bath ? 

Tell me but this, and lo I Menander flies. 
To hail the fair, whose picture Fancy views ; 

T' unmask the face, which charaas him in disguise, 
And clasp the Nymph, as he has kissed the Mus€. 



TO METSTANDER. 139 



THE COUNTRY GIRL TO MENANDER. 

Oh ! cease thy too seducive strain, 

Nor touch the warbling harp again ; 

The rapturing tones invade my heart, 

And Peace and Rest will soon depart ; 

Love, with his downy, purple wing, 

Will to my breast his roses bring ; 

But, ah ! beneath tlieir roseate dye, 

The sharpest thorns of Anguish lie : 

Then hush the enchanting, soul-detaining lyre, 

And let Indiff'rence quench the kindling fire. 

Yet, oh 'tis rich, to hear the trilling sounds ; 

On the full swell. 

With rapture dwell, 
As the slow numbers steal along the grounds ; 

Then as they rise in air. 

And on the fragrant zephyrs float. 

And wanton there. 
How sweet, to catch the silver note ! 
But Wisdom Avills the stem decree. 
And puts a lasting bar, 'twixt love and me. 
The streams of joy, that Cupid sips. 
And where he laves his gilded pluines, 
Must never glisten on the lips, 
She says, where sober Wisdom blooms. 

Thou call'st me from my native grove, 
And bid'st me tell where 'tis I rove ; 



140 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL,. 

It is, the Goddess bids me say, 

Where Love and thou must never stray : 

Where Peace and Pleasure constant bloon^j 

And Rapture smiles around the tomb. 

But though alone, with mental eye, 

This form thou ne'er must view ; 

In answer to this deep drawn sigh, 

Breathe me one last adieu ; 

So may full tides of joy around thee flow, 

^nd life's more fragrant fiow'rets ever blow. 



SONNET 

TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 

XlASTE, Zephyr, fly, and waft to Anna's ear 
This bosom echo^ — 'tis my heart's reply ; 

Say, to her notes I listened with a tear. 

And caught the sweet contagion of a " sigh.'* 

But, ah ! that " last adieu !" oh ! stern request I 
Cold, as those tides of vital ice, that roll 

Through the chilled channels of the maiden breast, 
When prudish Sanctity congeals the soul. 

O'er Fancy's fairy lawn, no more we rove ; 

No more, in Rhyme's impervious hood arrayed, 
Hold airy converse in the Muse's grove, 

While you a shadow seemed, and I a shade. 

For know, Menander can thy features trace, 

Nor more thy verse admire, than idolize thy face 1 



TO ANNA-LOUISA. 14-1 



SONNET, 



TO ANNA-LOUISA) ON HER ODE TO FANCY. 

OAY, child of Phoebus and the eldest Grace, 
Whose lyre melodious, and enchanting face, 

The blendid title of thy birth proclaim ; 
Say, lovely Naiad of Castalia's streams^ 
Why thus thy Muse on Fiction's pillow dreams, 

And fondly woos the rainbow-mantled Dame ? 
When stern Misfortune, with her Gorgon frown, 
Congeals the fairy face of Bliss to stone, 

Hope to the horns of Fancy's altar flies ; 
But what gay nun would seek asylum there. 
When Beauty, Love and Fortune crown the fair, 

And Hyrnen's temple greets her raptured eyes ? 
Then haste, sweet nymph, to bless tlie ardent youth; 
Then, Fancy, " blush to be excelled by Truth." 



STANZAS 

TO ANNA, ON HER VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA. 

Vx'oME, power ethereal, whose mellifluous aid 
Taught Shenstone's lyre with dulcet swell to move, 

Sweet, as the minstrel of tlie evening shade, 
Soft, as the languor in the eye of Love !' 



142 TO ANNA. 

Come, lend my artless hand thy magick charai, 
To deck the wreath, on Anna's brow entwined ; 

In notes majestick, as her heavenly /o7-??z; 
In verse irradiant, as her brilliant mind. 

From the bleak sky of Boston's sea-girt shore, 
The Sun and Anna seek benigner plains ; 

Where'er he shines, I'ude Winter storms no more. 
Where'er she visits, Spring florescent reigns. 

She smiles — and all the Loves their arrows wing ; 

She moves — ^the Goddess by her gait is known ; 
She chants — and all inspired, the Muses sing ; 

She speaks — 'tis peerless Anna's self alone ! 

All welcome, lovely, fair-one, queen of grace, 
Thou sigh and hope, by every heart expressed; 

Add to the sparkling triumphs of thy face. 
The humble tribute of Menander's breast ! 



The two'foUo'wing Pieces were written in answer to some one, who, under 
the signature of Truth, had attacked Mr. Paine in language, here distin- 
guished by inverted commas, 

TO TRUTH. 

Jjegs not, but steals !" If ought with furtive view 
From elder bards my muse hath e'er purloined, 
She scorns those artless thefts, performed by you. 
Who steal the dross, but leave the gold behin^. 

" With all the charms of lofty nonsense graced !" 
Such " nonsense" surely can't with thine agree ; 



TO TRUTH. 143 

On me the robes of Dulness thou hast placed ; 
Thank Heaven, I'm not a fool in rags, like thee. 

" The discounts few !" Hadst thou, dull cynic, cast 
O'er Fame's bright ledger a connect survey, 

There thou hadst found PMlenia's dues so vast, 
That all the Muses can't the interest pay. 

Should'st thou, to soothe departed Credit's ghost, 
At Taste's or Honour's bank present a note. 

With Conon's and Ezekiel's names endorsed. 
And were the sum applied for, but a groat ; 

No just director, were the signer known. 

Would trust so base an applicant a stiver j 
To thy responsorship would clip the loan, 

And, cent per cent, curtail it—to a cypher. 

Henceforth, let " Truth" a liberal spirit leani, 
For female genius claims a deathless mead ; 

Henceforth those low, aspersive insults spurn, 

Which Truth would blush to write, and Genius weep to read. 



TO TRUTH. 



VV ELL, " Truth," the snails, upon the tuneful mount, 
Would twist and lift their sluggish limbs about. 

While thy dull fingers duller numbers count, 
Aiid drag the limping legs of Rhyme, slow, lin-ge-ring out. 



144 TO TRUTH. 

So, " Dulness" owns me for a " favourite son 1** 
Thank ye, good Sir, that worse ye don't abuse us ; 

This self-same strumpet, ere her time was run, 
Swore thee on Chaos, a JVaturce lusus ! 

Ah 1 is the praise of fools no proof of merit ? 

Their censure, surely then, an envied " praise" is,. 
And blest be all the stars, that I inherit 

So large a portion of your evil graces ! 

" Then dare be honest, and to Knavery own ?" 
Hadst thou the office of confessor claimed, 

Then might I kneel, and all my sins make known, 
To one, of whom e'en " Knavery" is ashamed ! 

« The greatest fool, that lives !" — Why heaves that groan t 
I'll wear no wreath, that costs my friend a tear ; 

The cap receive again, 'tis thine alone ; 
For you, like Csesar, find on earth no peer ! 

" As Sense, the accountant, sure has entered sound 1" 
This error on the clerk of " Fame" must fall ; 

I'm proud, that in her books my name is found ; 
With thee she opens no account at all ! 

" And find the whole amount not half a sous 1" 
As well might ants about the Alps declaim, 

And garret-criticks preach upon Peru, 

As " Truth" the lowest coin of Genius name. 

" Philenia's sergeant !" Pride adoi^es the thought ! 

The humblest halbert, which Pieria's queen 
From Taste's bright armoury gives, were cheaply bought 

With all the epaulets of envious Spleen ! 



TO TRUTH. 145 

Though ail my « puffs" not one recruiter drew, 
I'll not thy more successful drumstick rob ; 

Yes ! oft I've heard thee beat the loud tattoo, 
And with thy long-roll muster Wapping's mob I 

thy Gorgon train array, in battle ire ; 

Philenia triumphs with unaided Charms ; 
Like Rome's illustrious chief, her magick lyre 

Could speak a tuneful Myriad into arms. 

By " puffs" Menander " seeks his fame to raise !" 
Thy sickly fame were shocked by means so rough } 

The mildest breath puts out the Taper's blaze, 
And bubbles vanish at the slightest " puff 1'* 

" My sinking credit !" — Should it sink to wreck, 

'Tis joy, to hear thee own, my credit rose ; 
Thine, by a fall, can never break its neck, 

The tide can never ebb, before it flows ! 

Thou son of Zoilus, hail ! His pulpit host 

Exult in thee, a second leader gained ; 
Whose greatest praise the vilest grub might boast ; 

Whose only glory is a laurel stained ! 

But I'll no longer war against a foe, 

On whom too condescending Justice snears ; 

A foe, so lost to every tender glow. 
That Adamant a Sensitive appears ! 

The surly Critick, who with envy blind, 

To shine the pedant, with the man would part, 

In Fame's ascending scale may raise his mmd, 
While in the falling balance sinks his heart. 
19 



146 ON A BAMBOO FAN. 

Poor is the f uffian victor of the field, 

Where tortured feelings melt the female eye, 

Where wounded Tendeniess, compelled to yield, 
Leads the barbarian's triumph with a sigh. 



STANZAS 

to A YOUNG LADY ON A BAMBOO FAN, ACCIDENTALLY 
TORN. 

Hjrst, wanton Toy, 'twas thine to move, 

By beauty's lovely queen caressed ; 
While, waving, like the wing of love, 

Thou fanned' St a flame in every bi'eastS 
'Twas thine, in her imperial hand. 

The cold to warm, the proud subdue ; 
The female Franklin's magic wand, 

Olivia's sceptre, sweet Bamboo ! 

Whene'er the Nymph displayed thy charms 

Thy airy flutters graceful move ; 
Each bosom, throbbing soft alarms, 

Appeared an aspen leaf of love. 
And while, too fondly, thought the maid 

To smile vinseen, when veiled by you ; 
Her treachei'ous eyes the plot betrayed. 

And dazzled through the thin Bamboo. 

But oh ! ye Loves, whence heaves that sigh, 
And whence those tears, ye Graces, flow ? 

Why swells the sorrow-glistening eye ? 
Why ventilates the breast of woe ? 



ON A BAMBOO FAN. 14f 

• 

" 'Tis rent ! Olivia's fan is rent ! 

" Farewell, our triumphs ! Fame, adieu !" 
Alas ! — But why, this wound lament ? 

'Tis glory to your loved Bamboo ! 

Two rival Zephyrs, knights of air, 

Contended for Olivia's lip ; 
To dwell, like Epicureans there, 

And riot on the nect'rous sip ; 
To that pure fo\int, of chaste delight, 

These Chesterfields of aether flew ; 
Rushed on the Fan, which checked their sight, 

And rudely tore the soft Bamboo. 

Ah ! could I gain the ear of Jove, 

To list propitious to my prayer, 
This sole request my wish should prove, 

That I thy envied form might bear. 
Then, from the nymph I'd steal a kiss, 

And sigh, in plaintive zephyrs too ; 
While tender tales of love and bliss, 

J'd whisper from the fond Baipboo ! 



PRIZE prologue: 

Spoken in the character of Apollo. 
BY Mr. C. POWELL, 
^T THE OPENING OF THE FIRST THEATRE, IN BOSTON, 
JANUARY, 1794. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

The subsequent Poem was originally ivriiteii by Mr. PamCf 
for a Prologue at the opening of the Federal Street Theatre^ 
in 1794. It was spoken by Mr. Charles Powell^ the first man- 
ager^ and afterwards publishedin the Massachusetts Magazine. 
The Trustees proposed a medal for the best Prologue. Censors 
were appointed to examine and award; and numerous compet' 
itors crowded the list for the Prize. We believe there was no 
diversity of opinion among the censors.) and the medal was ac- 
cordingly adjudged to Mr. Paine. Since the original publication 
the Poem has beenimproved aiid greatly ramified. Mr. Paine 
had pourtrayed) with great labour a7id skill, and finished with 
the most vivid colouring., the characters of all the great English 
dramatic poets, which, had he lived to publish his own works, 
he would have incorporated into this Poem. The sketch of 
these characters he considered, as the most perfect, polished at^d 
elevated of his poetical productions. They were written upon 
detached pieces of paper, and through negligence or casualty 
are now irrecoverably lost. His profound knowledge of the 
Drama, and his familiar intimacy with the great luminaries, wha 
have adored it with their genius, eminently qualified him for the 
imdertaking. None of his fragments could have been more 
precious. But, like the mystic leaves of the Sybil, they elude 
the most diligent search, and cannot be embodied with his works*. 

* The above notices are coimnunicated to the editor, and the publick, 
by a gentleman ivho remembers to have seen the outlines at least, of 
SJiakespear^s, Johjison's, Fletcher'' s Dryden's^ Centlivre^s, Ot-way's, Con- 
greve's, Farquar''s, Sheridaris and other characters, as sketched by Mr. 
Paine. ' 



PRIZE PROLOGUE. 

W HEN first, o'er Athens, Learning's dawning ray 
Gleamed the dim twilight of the Attick day ; 
To charm, improve, the hours of state repose, 
The deathless father of the Drama rose. 
No gorgeous pageantry adorned the show ; 
The plot was simple, and the scene was low. 
Without the wardrobe of tlie Graces, drest ; 
Without the mimick blush of Art, caressed ; 
Heroick Virtue held her throne secure. 
For Vice was modest, and Ambition poor. 

But soon the Muse, by nobler ardours fired, 
To loftiest heights of Scenick verse aspired. 
From useful Life her comick fable rose. 
And Epick passions fomaed her tale of woes : 
The daring Drama heaven itself explored, 
And gods descending trod the Grecian board. 
The scene expanding, through the temple swelled ; 
Each bosom acted, what each eye beheld : 
Warm to the heart, the chimick Fiction stole, 
And purged, by moral Alchymy, the soul. 

Hence Artists graced, and Heroes nerved the age, 
The sons or pupils of a patriot stage. 
Hence, in this forum of the virtues fired, 
This living school of Eloquence inspired ; 



iS2 PRIZE PROLOGUE, 

With bolder crest, the dauntless warrior strode ; 

With nobler tongue, the ardent statesman glowed j 

The void of Life instinctive morals filled. 

And Fame herself with chaste Ambition thrilled j 

Imperial Grief gave social Pity birth, 

And frightened Folly feared instructive Mirth. 

Thus Athens reigned Minerva of the globe ; 
First, in the hemlet — fairest in the i^obe ; 
In arms she triumphed, as in letters shone, 
Of Taste the palace, and of War the throne » 

But, lo ! where, rising in majestick flight, 
The Roman eagle sails the expanse of light ! 
His wings, like Heaven's vast canopy, unfurled, 
Stretch their broad plumage o'er the subject world; 
Behold ! he soars, where climbing Phoebus rolls, 
And, perching on his car, o'erlooks the poles ! 
Far, as the chariot winds its radiant way, 
His empire follows on the ebb of day ; 
And Rome and Light revolve with rival fires, 
And Cesar governs, when the Sun retires. 

Bland nurse of Genius ! mother queen of Grace ! 
Lo ! Cecrops' throne is Ruin's charnel place ! 
Long ages past, with beating wing, have swept 
Thy crumbling tomb, and as they smote, have wept ; 
Now, Time's grey eve, serene with Imgering day, 
Sheds o'er thy wrecks his sad sepulchral ray ! 
Departed Athens ! I'ound thy sullen shores, 
Choaked with thy gods, thy vexed Pyrasus roars-, 



PRIZE PROLOGUE. 153 

Once proud to glitter where thy columns stood, 

That Heaven might see thy temples in his flood. 

From their cold altars all thy priests have flown, 

And liermit Silence worships there alone ! 

O'er thy drear mound no dirge thy muses swell ; 

Mute is the breath, that filled their votive siiell. 

Pierced at their shrines, the sacred sisters fled. 

Veiled their stained breasts, and pitied while they bled ; 

Then, grouped in air, they showed the wounds they bore, 

And dropped their broken lyres, to sound no more. 

The Chissel's life still loves the realm^ it gx'aced, 

And weeps in mai'ble o'er thy sculptured waste ; 

O'er broken cenotaphs and mouldering fanes, 

Sits black Despair, while pagan Wonder reigns ; 

Where frowned thy Sages, from their niches thrown, 

The prophet raven fills the vacant stone ; 

With Arab scars the Pai'ian hero bleeds, 

And Beauty's statue sleeps in groves of weeds ; 

Minerva's temple vainly greets the stars. 

And pirates shelter on the rock of Mars, 

Where lightens now, the Drama's vivid eye. 
Whose glance reformed, where'er its beams could fly ? 
Who, when Desire was fond, and Art was young. 
So rudely sported, and so simply sung ? 
Yet, when thy realm was wild, and dark with fate, 
Could charm the tumult, and allay the state ? 
Could gently touch the film, that made thee blind, 
And pour new day o'er thine infatuate .mind? 

Where, now, thy lofty Muse, thou bard divine ! 
Who bade a nation's wealth adorn her shi'ine ! 
20 



1^4 PRIZE PROLOGUE. 

Who, graced their passions, aiid their pride to move, 
A people's homage, and a senate's love, 
With gorgeous drapery, and imperial air, 
Awed mobs to think, and " wonder why they were }'' 
Who with her pencil moved the state-machine, 
And swayed a faction, as she turned a scene ; 
With Art's last glories bade her temple flame, 
And gave to Virtue, all she won from Fame ; 
Who o'er a realm her vast proscenium threw, 
And saw all Athens in one splendid view ; 
With Attick genius moral truth impressed. 
And taught a nation, while she charmed a guest I 

In vain Illyssus flowed, or Locris bled, 
The vital virtue of my heart had fled I 
What though to victory patriot Valour wades j 
Or musing Science consecrates thy shades ; 
While thankless Praise on dangerous Glory frownSj 
And Envy banishes, whom Fortune crowns ; 
While the blest seer, who taught all, Nature knew, 
Receives a chalice for the heaven he drew. 

In vain thy Epick heroes wake with rage, 
And stalk like spectres o'er thy trembling stage ! 
Ruled by caprice, with varying passion raised. 
As rhetorick flattered, or as triumph blazed ; 
Bound by no law, a trope could not repeal. 
Just to no merit, faction could not feel ; 
A crowd of schools, and a scholastick crowd. 
Light, though forensick, impotent, though loud |, 
Wild by abstraction, and by fiction vain, 
Crude by refinement, and by sense insane ; 



PRIZE PROLOGUE, 155 

With q\iick conceits thy fickle fancy burned, 
With learning fooled thee, 'till thy folly learned ; 
With clamoruus Wisdom waged its patriot feud, 
'Till words alone defended publick good. 
Disgusted Pallas her allegiance broke, 
Ilium revived, and bade thee pass the yoke. 

Dear wild of Genius ! o'er thy mouldering scene. 
While Taste explores, where Time's rude step has been. 
Thy marble fragments, and thy desert mart, 
Frown Fate to Faction, and Despair to Art j 
Alike they mark thy frenzy and thy fame. 
Record thy glory, and confess thy shame ! 

Bare and defenceless to the blast of war, 
The gates of Greece received the victor's car ; 
Chained to his wheels, was captive Faction led, 
And Taste transplanted bloomed at Tyber's head= 
O'er the rude minds of Empire's hardy race, 
The opening pupil beamed of lettered grace. 
With charms so sweet, the houseless Drama smiled. 
That Rome adopted Athens orphan child : 
With bounty cloathed her, and with kindness cheeredj 
Her fancy copied, and her satire feared ; 
Vice, fashion, folly — -to her power resigned. 
And bowed an empire to the Muse's mind. 
Wealth, honour, fame her Cesar's hand bestowed. 
Wit, virtue, grace repaid the debt, she owed j 
Life breathed in fable, eloquence in mien. 
And manners taught how morals should be seen. 
From Beauty's touch no mail could guard the heart* 
Rome conquered science and was ruled by art. 



tS6 PRIZE PROLOG tTE. 

Transplanted Athens' in her stage revived, 

Her patriots mouldered, but her poets lived. 

Fledged by her hand, the Mantuan sw^an aspired ; 

Glanced by her eye, e'en Pompey's self retired ; 

And raptured TuUy half his graces caught, 

While Roscius bodied all the forms of thought. 

Sheathed was the sword, by which a world had bled ; 

And Janus blushing to his temple fled : 

The Globe's proud butcher grew humanely brave ; 

Earth staunched her wounds, and Ocean hushed his wave. 

Augustan Rome, with sad, prophetick eye, 
Beheld her empire circle round the sky ; 
And saw along the ever i^olling view, 
Her shadow tremble, as her pennons flew. 
Around her throne Pretorian cohorts stood, 
Yet Fiction governed what her arms subdued. 
O'er vassal man she dared not reign alone, 
And called the Drama to support her throne ;■ 
And shook her sceptre, and her legions led, 
When spoke the Larva, or the Arena bled. 

At length, though huge of limb, by power oppressed, 
Groaning with Slavery's mountain on their breast, 
Her giant nations struggled from disgrace, 
And Rome, like iEtna, tottered to her base. 

Thus set the sun of intellectual light, 
And, wrapped in clouds, lowered on the Gothick night. 
Dark gloomed the storm— the rushing torrent poured, ' 
And wide the deep Cimmerian deluge roared ; 



PRIZE PROLOGUE. IST 

E'en Learning's loftiest hills were covered o'er, 
And seas of dulness rolled, without a shore. 
Yet, ere the surge Parnassus' top o'erflowed, 
The banished Muses fled their blest abpde. 
Frail was their ark, the heaven topped seas to brave, 
The wind their compass, and their helm the wave ; 
No port to cheer them, and no star to guide. 
From clime to clime they roved the billowy tide ^ 
At length, by storms and tempests wafted o'er^ 
They found an Ararat on Albion's shore. 

Yet sterile proved the cold, reluctant Age, 
And scarcely seemed t'^ vegetate the stage ; 
Nature, in dotage, second childhood mourned, 
Outlived her wisdom, and to straw returned. 
But, hark 1 her mighty rival sweeps the strings ; 
Sweet Avon, flow not 1 — 'tis thy Shakespeare sings ! 
With Blanchard's wing, in Fancy's heaven he soars ; 
With Herschel's eye, another world explores ! 
Taught by the tones of his melodious song, 
The scenick Muses tuned their barbarous tongue, 
With subtle powers the crudest soul refined. 
And warmed the Zembla of the dormant mind. 
The World's new queen, Augusta, owned their charms, 
And clasped the Grecian nymphs in British arms. 

Then triumphed Nature with imperial Art, 
The Drama's province was the human heart. " 

No tint of verse can paint the extatick view, 
When Garrick sighed the Muse his last adieu 1 
Description but a shadow's shade appears, 
When Siddons' looks a nation into tears 1 - 



i^8 PillZE PROLOGUE. 

But, ah ! while thus unrivalled reigns the Muse^ 
Her soul o'erflows and Grief her face bedews ; 
Sworn at the altar, proud Oppression's foe, 
She weeps, indignant for her Britain's woe. 
Long has she cast a fondly wishful eye, 
On tfee pure climate of the Western sky ; 
And now, while Europe bleeds at every vein, 
And pinioned forests shake the crimsoned naain ; 
While se^-walled Britain mid the tempest stands. 
And hurls her thunders from a thousand hands ; 
Lured by a clime, where, hostile arms afar, 
Peace rolls luxurious in her dove drawn car ; 
Where Fi^eedom first awoke the human mind. 
And broke the enchantment, which enslaved mankind : 
Behold ! Apollo seeks this liberal plain. 
And brings the Thespian Goddess in his train. 
O, happy realm ! to whom are richly given 
The noblest bounties of indulgent Heaven ; 
For whom has Earth her wealthiest mine bestowed, 
And Commerce bridged old Ocean's broadest flood j 
To you a stranger guest, the Drama, flies ; 
An angel wanders in a pilgrim's guise ! 
To charm the fancy and to feast the heart, 
She spreads the banquit of the Scenick art. 
By you supported, shall her infant stage 
Pourtray, adorn, and regulate the age. 
When rages Faction with intemperate sway, 
And grey-haired Vices shame the face of day ; 
Drawn from their covert to the indignant pit, 
Be such the game to stock the park of Wit ; 
That park, where Genius all his shafts may draw, 
Nor dread the terrors of a forest law. 



PRIZE PROLOGUE. 139, 

But not to scenes of pravity confined, 
Her polished life an ample field shall find ; 
Reflected here, its fair perspective, view, 
The stage, the Camera— the landscape, you. 

Ye circling fair, whose clustering beauties shine 
A radiant galaxy of charms divine ; 
Whose gentle hearts those tender scenes approve, 
Where pity begs, or kneels adoring love ; 
Ye sons of sentiment, whose bosom fire 
The song of pathos, and the epick lyre ; 
Whose glowing souls with tragick grandeur rise, 
When bleeds a hero, or a nation dies ; 
And ye, who, throned on high, a Synod sit, 
And rule the turl)id atmosphere of wit ; 
Whose clouds dart light'ning on our comick wires, 
And burst in thunder, as the flash expires. 
If here, those eyes, whose tears with peerless sway, 
Have wept the vices of an Age away ; 
If here, those lips, whose smiles with magick art, 
Have laughed the foibles fi^om the cheated heart; 
On Mirth's gay cheek, can one bright dimple light ; 
In Sori'ow's breast, one passioned sigh excite ; 
With nobler streams, the Buskin's grief shall fall ; 
With pangs sublimer, throb this breathing wall ; ] 
Thalia too, more blythe, shall trip the stage, 
Of Cai^e the wrinkles smooth, and thaw the veins of Age, 

And now, Thou Dome, by Freedom's patrons reared. 
With Beauty blazoned, and by Taste I'evered ; 
Apollo consecrates thy walls profane, — 
Pence be thou sacred to the Muses reign ! 



J60 PRIZE PROLOGUE. 

In Thee, three ages in one shall conspire ; 

A Sophocles shall sweep his lofty lyre ; 

A Terence rise, in chariest charms serene ; 

A Sheridan display the polished scene ; 

The first, with epick Grief shall swell the stage, 

And give to virtue fiction's noblest rage ; 

The second, laws to Beauty shall impart, 

And copy nature by the rules of art ; 

The last, great master, ends invention's strife, 

And gilds the mirror, which he holds to life ! 

Thy classick lares shall exalt our times, 

With distant ages and remotest climes ; 

And Athens, Rome, Augusta, blush to see. 

Their virtue, beauty, grace, all shine— combine^ in tbee< 



INVENTION OF LETTERS: 

A POEM, 

WRITTEN AT THE REQ.UEST OF THE ^RESIDENT OF 

PARVARD UNIVERSITY; 
AI<rp DELIVERED, IN CAMBRIDGE, ON THE DAY OF ANNUAL 

COMMENCEMENT, JULY 15, 1795. 



TO HIS EXCELLENCY 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, 



WHOSE CIVICK AND MILITARY VIRTUES DESERVE A NOBLER 



EULOGIUM, THAN THE 



INVENTION OF LETTERS" 



CAN BESTOW, 



THIS POEM 



IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY AN OBEDIENT 



AND GRATEFUL CITIZEN, 



THE AUTHOR. 



tilE 



INVENTION OF LETTERS. 



ocARCE had the'cedar cleft the virgm wave, 
That erst to Tyre its chaste embraces gave ; 
Scarce had the bold Phcenician, forced to roam 
By barren nature and a desert home ; 
His vales of rock exchanged for Ocean's field, 
And left the plough's, the trident's beam to wield 5 
When Cadmus, eldest heir of classick fame, 
First gave each element of thought a name. 
Of oral tongue the varying sounds he caught, 
For every tone a varying emblem wrought ; 
From signs a word ; from words a period flows ; 
A page succeeds, and next a volume grows. 

Thus, on the silrface of the polished rind, 
He sketched the features of the viewless mind ; 
At length aspired to rhetorick's colouring grace. 
And pictured thought, as artists shade the face. 

Now to Achaia's rude, unlettered shore, 
His glorious art the bold discoverer bore. 
In that calm seat of innocence and ease, 
Where Nature strove to bless, and Life to please ; 



164 THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 

No ruffling passion shook the placid breast, 
For Anger's fluid surface was at rest. 
With rising sun, the swain Ins course renewed, 
His flock conducted, or his Daphne wooed ; 
And when his vows she heard in dale or grove, 
Her smile was friendship ; but her blush was love. 
No jealous fear, as roving arm in arm, 
Her brow could wrinkle, or her heart alarrn ; 
As chaste, as Eve, when she, in virtue pure, 
Without a fig-leaf thought her charms secure. 

Soon, for the sceptre, was the crook resigned, 
And arts and arms employed the active mind. 
From Attick climes, the Cadmean tablet spread, 
And Roman eyes the page of Athens read. 
By Genivis sunned, by fond Ambition nursed, 
Forth from its germ the flower of Science burst. 
Now rose the temple ; now the clarion rung ; 
The forum thundered, and the Muses sung : 
Now flew the shuttle ; now the quarry broke ; 
There breathed the canvass ; here the marble spoke. 

Be such the lay to sons of elder time. 
Whose green tombs flourish in immortal prime. 
May no rude Saracen's unhallowed tread 
Profane the ashes of the classick dead ! 
But let the pedant, whelmed in learned dust, 
Who values Science only for its rust, 
No more presume with bigot zeal to raise, 
O'er modern worth, the palm of ancient days. 
No more let Athens to the world proclaim. 
Her classick phalanx holds the field of fame 5 



THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 165 

No more let delving Tyre's mechanic host 

The birth of letters, as of commerce, boast ; 

And thou, proud Tyber ! vaunt those Avaves no morcj 

Which once a Cesar bathed, a Virgil bore ! 

The barbarous Rhine now blends its classick name, 

With Rome's, Phoenicia's, and Achaia's fame ; 

See, midst her waves, their fragrance to restore^ 

He dips the laurels, which your heroes wore ; 

Green with new life, and chastened of their dust, 

Restores each chaplet to its votive bust. 

Sovereign of Art, Invention's noblest son. 

He claims the bays, which every art has won ; 

Of fame unenvious, living worth rewards. 

And loves the genius, Avhich his page records. 

Egyptian shrubs, in hands of cook or priest, 
A king could mummy, or enrich a feast ; 
Faustus, great shade ! a nobler leaf imparts, 
Embalms all ages, and preserves all arts. 

The ancient scribe, employed by bards divine, 
With faultering finger traced the Imgering line. 
So few the scrivener's dull profession chose, 
With tedious toil each tardy transcript rose ; 
And scarce the Iliad, penned from oral rhyme, 
Grew with the bark, that bore its page sublime. 

But when the Press, with fertile womb, supplies 
The useful sheet, on thousand wings it flies ; 
Bound to no climate, to no age confined. 
The pinioned vojume spreads to all mankind. 



166 THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 

No sacred power the Cadmean art could claiiBj 
O'er time to triumph, and defy the flame : 
In one sad day a Goth could ravage more. 
Than ages wrote, or ages could restore. 

The Roman hemlet, or the Grecian lyre, 
A realm might conquer, or a realm inspire ; 
Then sink, oblivious, in the mouldering dust, 
With those who blest them, and with those who cursti 
What guide had then the lettered pilgrim ledj 
Where Plato moralized ; where Cesar bled ? 
What page had told, in lastuig record wrought, 
The world who butchered, or the world who taught ? 

Thine was the naighty power, immortal sage ! 
To burst the cearments of each buried age. 
Through the drear sepulchre of sunless Time, 
Rich with the trophied wrecks of many a clime, 
Thy daring genius broke the pathless way, 
And brought the glorious relicks forth to day. 

To thee the historian's pen, indebted, owes 
The map of ages, which his page bestows : 
From thee e'en Fame inhales the air, she breathes, 
And crowns thy brows with tributary wreathes ! 

The Press, that engine, formed to rouse mankind, 
To expand the heart, and civilize the mind. 
In feats, like these, each statesman has outdone. 
From Nimrod's house of peers, to Chatham's peei'less son i 



THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. iht 

By Freedom guarded, and by Virtue graced, 
It weeds the morals, while it prunes the taste. 
But when, in thraldom of oppressive chains. 
The curb of power the liberal press restrains, 
Vice, who has charms, Circassia never knew, 
In voice a Circe, and in poison too. 
With luring dimples, and with wanton smiles. 
The eye enamours, and the heart beguiles. 
In pu.blick veins her foul infections roll. 
Seduce the nation, and corrupt its soul. 

Had Vulcan's web, which once, in realm of Jove, 
Trapped in crim. con. the tripping queen of love, 
Of late at Gaul's lascivious court been spread, 
Ere fettered Type from dread Bastile was led ; 
The magick seine, such shoals its wires had caught. 
Like Peter's net, had broken with the draught ! 

The mystick Fossil, whose attracted soul, 
With fond affection, seeks its kindred pole, 
To bless the globe, had ne'er explored the wave. 
But, Cortes-like, discovered to enslave. 
Had letters ne'er the bold ambition crowned. 
And Printing polished what the magnet found ; 
In vain had Gama traced the orient way, 
And Europe stretched her wings 'mid Indian day ; 
In vam Columbus, spurning Neptune's roar. 
Gave earth a balance, and the sea a shore, 
'Till truth-winged Science, bursting Error's night, 
Shed her religion, where she beamed her light. 



168 THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 

But most that triumph of the press we prize, 
Which bade the slumbering rights of Nature rise ; 
Stripped of his mask, the despot's face displayed, 
And showed the world the monster, they obeyed. 

Not Tell's fleet arrow sped with surer art ; 
Not Corde's dagger deeper cleft the heart ; 
Not tower-armed elephant, nor bursting mine, 
The battex'ing aries, nor the blazing line, 
With deadlier prowess spread their fatal rage, 
Than Type, indignant for an injured age. 
When patriots, leagued a nation to redress. 
At tyrants point the artillery of the press, 
Loud, o'er the gorgeous canopy of state, 
It falls, like Erie ; and it sti^ikes, like Fate ; 
Wide as La Plata, as the Andes high, 
Its thunders echo, and its lightnings fly ; 
To heaven appealed, ascends the dread decree ; 
The tyrant falls—America is free I 

Long may our nation guard the rights, she boasts ; 
Green be the tombs where sleep her patriot hosts. 
May war-worn Scipio reap the field, he gained. 
Nor see his laurels stripped, his honour stained ! 
Ne'er may a warrior's urn reproach the brave,. 
Ungrateful Rome, thou can'st not rob my grave ! 

By smiling Peace, and fruitful vallies blest. 
By freemen loved, by distant climes caressed, 
Columbia rules a brave and generous land, 
And scatters blessings, whei-e her laws comuiandu 



THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. . 169 

What though no wave Pactolian laves her shore, 

Nor gleam her caverns with Peruvian ore ; 

Rich is the soil, through which her rivers run, 

And all her diamonds ripen in the sun. 

Let torrid climes in sterile caves infold 

Their gleaming vineyards of luxuriant gold ; 

Let India boast the philosophick churl. 

Who starves an oyster, to create a pearl. 

Thee happier wealth, Columbia, Fate has given, 

Nor gleans from famine what descends fi'om heaven. 

Thy native mines nor rod nor art requii'e, 

To dig by magick, nor to purge by fire ; 

And chymick skill, thy glittering veins to trace. 

Resigns thy bosom, to survey thy face. 

Beneath the shade, which Freedom's oak displays, 
Their votive shrine Apollo's offspring raise. 
With youthful Fancy, or with matron Taste, 
They cull the meadow, or explore the waste ; 
Each tract, they culture, verdant life perfumes ; 
With Judgment ripens, or with Genius blooms. 

In strength of scene, delights a Ramsay's page ; 
With classick truth, a Belknap charms the age; 
In cloudless splendour, modest Minot shines ; 
And Bunker flames, in Allen's* glowing lines. 
By sister arts and kindred powers allied. 
The Trumbulls rise, the lyre's and pencil's pride ; 
And every muse has carved Philenia's name, 
On every laurel in the gi-ove of Fame. 

* jNIr. James Allen, of Boston ; author of a celebrated mannscriptpoeni, 
entitled, "The Battle of Ihinkei'' s H/7(." 
99 



irO THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 

From Harvai^d's fount, by native springs supplied) 
Presiding Science rolls her copious tide. 
JBlest seat of letters, to thy sacred walls 
This festive day my fond remembrance calls i 
In Life's broad road, whate'er my path may be. 
Full oft shall Memory turn to gaze on thee ; 
Still, like some faithful ghost, delight to dwell, 
And hover o'er the spot, she loved so well ! 

A lurking moth in every art we find, 
That braves the weakness of the human mind. 
Born in the pore, it burrows through the heart, 
And kills the oak, whose leaf it could not start. 

In yon drear garret. Faction's dark recess. 
Her nightly daemons load the groaning press. 
With cobwebs hung, she rubs her sleepless eyes, 
While Norfolk spiders weave her half-spun lies. 
Her motley brood by law, nor gospel tied. 
Whom honour cannot bind, nor reason guide. 
The dregs of nature and of vice compose ; 
For Envy these creates, and Folly those. 
In tricks expert, or buzzing on the wing. 
Like apes, they mimick, or, like insects, sting ! 
And still another useless proof supply — ■ 
The sun that warms a monkey, breeds a fly ! 

For place or power, while demagogues contend, 
Whirled in their vortex, sinks each humbler friend. 
See Crispin quit his stall, in Faction's cause, 
To cobble government, and soal the laws ! 



THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 171 

See Frisseur scent his dust, his razor set, 

To shave the treaty, or to puff Genet ! 

In doubtful mood, see Mulciber debate, 

To mend a horse-shoe, or to weld the state 1 

The whip's bold knight, in barn, his truck has laid, 

To spout in favour of the carrying trade ! 

While Stay tape runs, from hissing goose, too hot, 

To measure Congress for another coat ; 

And still, by rule of shop, intent on pelf, 

Eyes the spare cloth, to cabbage for himself ! 

Envy, that fiend, who haunts the great and good, 
Not Cato shunned, nor Hercules subdued. 
On Fame's wide field, where'er a covert lies, 
The rustling serpent to the thicket flies ; 
The foe of Glory, Merit is her prey ; 
The dunce she leaves, to plod his drowsy way. 
Of birth amphibious, and of Protean skilly 
This green-eyed monster changes shape at will ; ^ 

Like snakes of smaller breed, she sheds her skin ; 
Strips off the serpent, and turns — Jacobin. 

Each hero's seat her lawless steps invade, 
From George's banks, to Vernon's laurel shade. 
E'en to thy brow, immortal Freedom's Sire ! 
Her pagan hands, in sacrilege, aspire ! 
Can'st thou, great Chief, her thankless sons forgive, 
Who owe to thee the soil, on which they live ? 
These senseless reptiles, who, with Slander's bane, 
The bright medallion of thy life would stain, 
Yield to the glories of thy deathless name, 
The noblest tribute ever paid by fame. 



172 THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 

The beams of Phcebus shower their brightest blaze, 
When Heaven is shadowed by the clouds tliey raise : 
And the proud pyramids, that propped the sky, 
Whose spires were scarcely kenned by mortal eye ; 
Whose height the loftiest strides of Art surpassed, 
Were measured only by the shade they cast. 

Oh, Washington ! thou hero, patriot, sage ! 
Friend of all climates ; pride of every age ! 
Were thine the laurels, every soil could raise, 
The mighty harvest were penurious praise. 
Well may our realms thy Fabian wisdom boast ; 
Thy prudence saved, what bravery had lost. 
Yet e'er hadst thou, by Heaven's severer fates, 
Like Sparta's hero at the Grecian straits, 
Been doomed to meet, in arms, a world of foes. 
Whom skill could not defeat, nor walls oppose ; 
Then had thy breast, by danger ne'er subdued, 
SThe mighty buckler of thy country stood ; 
Proud of its wounds, each piercing spear would bless, 
Which left Columbia's foes one javelin less; 
Nor felt one pang, but, in the glorious deed. 
Thy little band of heroes, too, must bleed ; 
Nor throbbed one fear, but, that some poisoned dart 
Thy breast might pass, and reach thy country's heart I 

By Heaven ordained, ne'er in the sea of Fame 
Shall sit the disk of thy resplendent name ; 
But, like yon Arctick star, forever roll. 
In ceaseless orbit, round the glowing pole. 



THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 3f5 

Could Faustus live, by gloomy Grave resigned ; 
With power extensive, as sublime his mind, 
Thy glorious life a volume should compose, 
As Alps immortal, spotless as its snows. 
The stars should be its types— its press the age ; 
The earth its binding — and the sky its page. 
In language set, not Babel could o'erturn ; 
On leaves impressed, which Omar could not burn ; 
The sacred work in Heaven's high dome should stand, 
Shine with its suns, and with its arch expand ; 
'Till Nature's-self the Vandal torch should raise, 
And the vast alcove of Creation blaze ! 



THE 



RULING passion; 



JIJV OCCASIOJ^AL POEM, 



•WRITTEN BY THE APPOINTMENT OF THE SOCIETY 



OF THE 



PHI BETA kappa: 



AND SPOKEN, ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY, IN THE 



CHAPEL OF THE UNIVERSITY, CAMBRIDGE, 



JULY 20, 1797. 



THE 



RULING PASSION. 



rVANGE we through Nature's social walks, to scan 
That little world, that greater wonder, man. 
The Sage's study, which but few improve ; 
Religion's mystery, which none remove ; 
Reason's proud toy ; in his machine unite 
Powers, dense as earth ; conceptions, rare as light ; 
Its wheels more complex, than the central sphere, 
Which guides a comet, while it moulds a tear ; 
Its springs more subtle, than the secret soul, 
Which bids a world cohere, an atom roll. 

Less by himself, than others, understood ; 
More led by sense, yet more with mind endued ; 
His nature oftener sets our world at odds. 
Than Jove, in Ovid's "Green-Room" of the gods. 

Since, then, the wisest are as dull, as we. 
In one grave maxim let us all agree ; 
Nature ne'er meant her secrets should be found, 
And man's a riddle, which man can't expound J, 
33 



t78 THE RULING PASSION. 

Then let us shun the rapt seer's loftier flight, 
For paths more pervious to our ken of sight j 
Vain were our pride, like Icarus of yore, 
In realms of fire, on wings of wax, to soar ; 
Ours be the Muse, Avho humbler tracts essays ; 
Descends from theory, and life portrays. 
On what man is, the schools may disagree, 
We only know him, as he seems to be. 

In beings, formed their own pursuits to guide, 
No wonder moves it, and excites no pride, 
When bards, less curious than Lavater, find 
Some spring of action ruling every mind. 

Like Egypt's gods, man's various passions sway ; 
Some prowl the earth, and some ascend the day : 
This charms the fancy, that the palate feasts ; 
A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts ! 

Were the wild brood, who dwell in glade and brake, 
Some kindred character of man to take ; 
In the base jackall's, or gay leopard's mien. 
The servile pimp, or gay coquette, were seen ; 
The patient camel, long inured to dine 
But once a fortnight, would a poet shine ; 
The stag, a cit, with autlered brows content ; 
The rake, a pointer, always on the scent ; 
The snake, a statesman ; and the wit, a gnat \ 
The ass, an alderman ; the scold, a cat ; 
The wife, a ring-dove, on the myrtle's top ; 
The wolf, a lawyer ; the baboon, a fop ! 



THE RULING PASSIO^^ 179 

Life is a print-shop, where the eye may trace 
A different outline, marked in every face ; 
From chiefs, who laurels reap in fields of blood, 
Down to the hind, who tills those fields for food ; 
From the lorn nymph, in cloistered abbey pent, 
Whose friars teach to love, and to repent, 
To the young captive in the Haram's bower, 
Blest for a night, and empress of an hour ; 
From ink's retailers, perched in garret high, 
Cobwebbed around with many a mouldy lie ; 
Down to the pauper's brat, .who, luckless wight ! 
Deep in the cellar first received the light ; 
All, all impelled, as various passions move, 
To write, to starve, to conquer, or to love ! 
All join to shift Life's versicoloured scenes, 
Priests, poets, fiddlers, courtesans and queens ; 
And be it pride, or dress, or wealth, or fame, 
The acting principle is ne'er the same. 
Each takes a different I'out, o'er hill, or vale, 
The tangled forest, or the greensward dale. 
But they, who chiefly crov/d the field, are those, 
Who live by fashion- — constables and beaus. 
The first, I ween, are men of high report. 
The law's staff-officers, and known at court. 
The last, sweet elves, whose rival graces vie, 
To wield the snuff-box, or enact a sigh : 
To Fashion's gossamer their lives devote. 
The frieze, the cane, the cravat and the coat. 
In taste unpolished, yet in ton precise, 
They sleep at theatres, and wake at dice ; 
While, like the pilgrim's scrip, or soldier's pack, 
They carry all their fortune on their back. 



180 THE RULING PASSION. 

From fops, we turn to pedants, deep and dull ; 
Grave, without sense ; "o'erflowing, yet not full." 
See, the lank book-worm, piled with lumbering lore^ 
Wrinkled in Latin, and in Greek fourscore. 
With toil incessant, thumbs the ancient page, 
Now blots a hero, now turns down a sage ! 
O'er Learning's field, with leaden eye he strays, 
Mid busts of fame, and monuments of praise. 
With Gothick foot, he treads on flowers of taste, 
Yet stoops to pick the pebbles from the waste. 
Profound in trifles, he can tell, hoAv short 
Were ^sop's legs, how large was Tully's wart ; 
And, scaled by Gutter, marks, with joy absurd, 
The cut of Homer's cloak, and Euclid's beard ! 

Thus through the weary watch of sleepless night, 
This learned ploughman plods in piteous plight ; 
'Till the dim taper takes French leave to doze, 
And the fat folio tumbles on his toes. 

Born in the fens of Dulness, dank and mute. 
Where lynx might sleep, and half-starved owlet hoot ; 
With head of adamant, and nerves of steel ; 
Without or pulse to throb, or soul to feel ; 
Not WaiTen's glory could one bliss supply, 
Nor Trenck's captivity excite a sigh. 
Should Beauty's queen, in all her charms disclosed, 
As when to Paris' wondering eyes exposed, 
She loosed her cestus, and unyoked her doves, 
And stood unveiled 'mid Ida's conscious groves, 
Attempt, with lovliest attitude of Art, 
To warm the polar current of his heart ; 



THE RULING PASSION. 181 

Vain were the toil, as Alexander's plan, 
To carve mount Athos to the form of man ! 

Next in the group, a love-lorn maid we trace, 
Whose heart was virtue, and whose form is grace. 
In Life's gay prime, when passion, pure as truth. 
Bids the blood frolick through the veins of youth ; 
The plighted vow her easy ear received, 
The proffered faith her glowing heart believed. 
Artless herself, she thought the world so too. 
Nor feared those vices, which she never knew. 
Ill-fated girl, thy erring steps declare, 
Truth should suspect, and Innocence beware ! 

Ere, ripe for bliss, consenting hearts unite ; 
Ere retrospection chill the young delight ; 
The airy web of Fancy's dreams to prove. 
Unbind the bandeau from the brow of Love ! 

Sad be the hour, in Memory's page forlorn ; 
The cypress shade it, and the willow mourn ; 
When the fond maid, subdued in Reason's trance, 
Child of Desire, and pupil of Romance, 
Beneath the pensile palm, or aloed grove. 
Like Cleopatra, yields the world for love. 
Poor is the trophy of seductive Art, 
Which, but to triumph, subjugates the heart ; 
Or, Tarquin-like, with more licentious flame, 
Stains manly truth to plunder female fame. 
Life's deepest penace never can atone. 
For Hope deluded, or for Virtue flown, 



182 THE IIULING PASSIOJT. 

Yet such there are, whose smooth, perfidious smile 
Might cheat the tempting crocodile in guile. 
Thorns be their pillow ; agony their sleep ; 
Nor e'en the mercy given, to " wake and weep I" 
May screaming night-fiends, hot in recreant gore, 
Rive their strained fibres to their heart's rank core, 
Till startled Conscience heap, in wild dismay, 
Convulsive curses on the source of day ! 

But, see, what form, so sprigged, behooped, and sleek, 
"With modern head-dress on a block antique. 
Trips through the croud, and, ogling all who pass, 
Stares most demurely, through an Op'ra glass ! 
Sunk in the wane, she courts the gay parade ; 
A belle of Plato's age, a sweet old maid. 
While lived her beauty, (for 'tis now a ghost 1) 
The fair one's envy, and the fopling's toast ; 
What slaughtered heai'ts by her fierce eye-beams fell. 
Let Fiction's brokers, bards and tombstones, tell. 
Fled are the charms, which graced that ivory brow ; 
Where smiled a dimple, gapes a wrinkle now : 
And e'en that pouting lip, where whilom grew 
The mellow peach-down, and the ruby's hue. 
No more can trance the ea.r with sweeter sounds, 
Than fairies warble on enchanted grounds ! 

Now, hapless nymph, she wakes from dreams of bliss. 
The knee adoring, and the stolen kiss ; 
And for the Persian worship of the eye, 
Meets the arch simper of the mimick sigh. 
Still she resolves her empire to regain, 
And rifles Fashion, tortures Art, to reign. 



THE RULING PASSION. 183 

Oft at the ball, she flaunts, in flowers so gay, 
She seems December in the robes of May ; 
And oft, more coy, coquettes behind her fan 
That odious monster — dear, sweet ci'eature, man ! 

At length, grown ugly, past the aid of gold ; 
And, spite of essences and rouge, grown old ; 
Each softer passion yields to Pride's controul. 
And sour Misanthropy usurps her soul. 
Now, first on man, the spleeny gossip rails, 
Arraigns his justice, and his taste assails ; 
Till, as her tea's exhausted fragrance flies, 
Her wit evaporates, her scandal diss. 
Yet still invidious of the art to bless. 
She blasts the joys, she lingers to possess; 
And, while on Hymen's bridal rites she sneers. 
Her pillow trickles with repentant tears. 
While thus, to all her sex's pleasvires dead. 
She vents her rage on Adam's guilty head, 
Who rather chose, than lose his rib for life. 
To have the crooked member made a wife ; 
From waking woe to visioned bliss she flies, 
And dreams of raptures, which her fate denies. 
The tender flame, which Avarmed her youthful mind, 
By affectation's mawkish rules confined. 
Though quenched its heat, illumes with many a ray, 
The tedious evening of her fading day ; 
And though unknown, vinnoticed, and unblest, 
Still suns the impassive winter of her breast. 

Next comes the miser, palsied, jealous, lean. 
He looks the very skeleton of Spleen ! 



184 I'HE RULING PASSlON. 

*Mid forests drear, he haunts, in spectred gloom, 
Some desert abbey, or some druid's tomb ; 
Where, hersed hi earth, his occult riches lay, 
Fleeced from the world, and buried from the day. 
With crutch in hand, he points his mineral rod, 
Limps to the spot, and turns the well-known sod ; 
While there, involved in night, he counts his store, 
By the soft tinklings of the golden ore ; 
He shakes Avith terror, lest the moon should spy, 
And the breeze whisper, where his treasures lie. 

This wretch, who, dying, would not take one pill, 
If living, he must pay a doctor's bill. 
Still clings to life, of every joy bereft ; 
His god is gold, and his religion theft ! 
And, as of yore, when modern vice was strange, 
Could leathern money current pass on 'change, 
His reptile soul, whose reasoning powers are pent 
Within the logick bounds of cent per cent. 
Would sooner coin his ears, than stocks should fall, 
And cheat the pillory, than not cheat at all ! 

To fame unknown, to happier fortune born. 
The blithe Savoyard hails the peep of morn j 
And while the fluid gold his eye surveys. 
The hoary Glaciers fling their diamond blaze ; 
Geneva's broad lake rushes from its shores, 
Arve gently murmurs, and the rough Rhone roars. 
'Mid the cleft Alps, his cabin peers from high, 
Hangs o'er the clouds, and perches on the sky. 
O'er fields of ice, across the headlong flood. 
From cliff" to cliff he bounds in fearless mood. 



THE RULING PASSION, 185 

While, far beneath, a night of tempest lies, 
Deep thunder mutters, harmless light'ning flies ; 
While, far above, from battlements of snow, 
Loud torrents tumble on the world below ; 
On rustick reed he wakes a merrier tune. 
Than the lark warbles on the "Ides of June." 
Far off, let Glory's clarion shrilly swell ; 
He loves the musick of his pipe as well. 
Let shouting millions crown the hero's headj i 
And Pride her tesselated pavement tread ; 
More happy far, this denizen of air 
Enjoys what Nature condescends tQ spare : 
His days are jocund, undisturbed his nights ; 
His spouse contents him, and his mule delights I 

All hail, sweet Poesy ! transcendent maid 1 
To whom my fond youth's earliest vows were paid ; 
Who, dressed in sapphire robes, with eye of fire. 
Didst first my unambitious rhyme inspire ; 
Lured by whose charms, I left, in passioned hope, 
My Watts's Logick for the page of Pope ; 
if e'er regardful of thy wildered sons. 
For whom so gingerly Life's current runs ; 
Who, like the slaves, beneath the iron sway 
Of cursed Mezentius lingering, loath the day. 
Doomed, horrid Fate ! the living Muse to see. 
Bound to the mouldering corpse of Penury ; 
Descend, like Jove, suffused in golden shower, 
And on our garret-roofs the rain drops pour ! 
But if the current of Castalia's waves 
No Wicklo\f mine, no Georgian acre, laves ; 
24 



186 THE RULING PASSION 

If still bleak Want must chill thy votaries' fire — 
Their taste extinguish, and take back thy lyre. 

Where you send genius, send a fortune too ; 
Dunces by instinct thrive, as oysters woo ! 
For ne'er were veins of ore by chymist found, 
Except, like Hebrew roots, in barren ground ! 

Each scribbling wight, who pens a birth-day card, 
Was born, as grannams say, to be a bard ! 
Which is, in prose, if rightly understood. 
To chum with spiders, and catch flies for food. 

In Youth's gay flush, when first the sportive Muse 
Each bright ephemera of the brain pursues ; 
Ere sobered Fancy, touched by Reason's ray, 
Sees all her frost-work castles melt away ; 
Were, then, the enthusiast bard, like Moses, led 
To Pisgah's top, and life in vision spread ; 
There, while he blessed the promised land, were told, 
The Canaan, he must ne'er possess, was gold j 
How many minstrels of the classick lay 
Had left the Appian, for the Indian way ! 
How few would lumber, negligent of pelf. 
The Printer's garret, or the Grocer's shelf! 

Fame, that bright phantom, flitting, vain, and coy, 
Is all the meed, which poets e'er enjoy ; 
Nor e'en her fickle, short embrace possess, 
'Till all her charms have lost the power to bles's. 



THE RULING PASSION. 187 

Heroes and bards, who nobler flights have won, 
Than Cesar's eagles, or the Mantuan swan, 
From eldest era, share the common doom ; 
The sun of Glory shines but on the tomb. 
Firm, as the Mede, the stern decree subdues 
The brightest pageant of the proudest Muse. 
Man's noblest powers could ne'er the law revoke, 
Though Handel harmonized what Chatham spoke ; 
Though tuneful Morton's magick genius graced 
The Hyblean melody of Merry's taste ! 

Time, the stern censor, talisman of fame, 
With rigid justice, portions praise and shame : 
And, while his laurels, reared where Genius grew, 
'Mid wide Oblivion's lava bloom anew ; 
Oft will his chymick fire, in distant age, 
Elicit spots, unseen on ancient page. 

So the famed sage, who plunged in Etna's flame, 
'Mid pagan deities enshrined his name ; 
*Till from the iliack mountain's crater thrown, 
The Martyr's sandal cost the God his crown. 

So too Italia's victor paused, of late. 
While the red war beleagured Mantua's gatCj 
And bade his myrmidons the village spare, 
Where Virgil first inhaled his natal air. 

While thus of chequered life our motley lay 
Has sketched a various, though a crude survey, 
Say, shall Columbia's sons the theme prolong ? 
Their <' Ruling Passion" claims our noblest song. 



188 THE RULING PASSION*. 

Theirs is the pride, bequeathed by glorious sires, 
To guard their Lares, and protect their fires ; 
To rear a race, enlightened, brave and free, 
Heirs of the soil, and tenants of the sea ; 
Whose breasts the Union shield, its laws revere, 
As country sacred, and as freedom dear. 

Long as our hardy yeomanry command 
The rich fee-simple of their native land ; 
Wliile, mid the labours of the ripening plain. 
They form the phalanx, and the courser train ; 
While, in our martial school, are chiefs enrolled, 
As Lincoln pi'udent, and as Putnam bold ; 
While, Catilme expelled, our senate prize 
Hearts, just as Russell's ; heads, as Bowdoin's, wise ; 
While guides our realm a patriot sage, who first. 
When Power's volcano o'er our nation burst, 
Unawed, like Pliny, saw the flame aspire. 
And cities sink in cataracts of fire ; 
Undaunted heard the rocking of the spheres, 
While all Vesuvius thundered in his ears : 
No longer dread Columbia's gallant host, 
The fierce invader, lowering on their coast ; 
Nor wiles of traitors, nor Corruption's power ; 
Nor Blount's conspiracy, nor Randolph's " flour !" 

Of late, in Gorgon's hall, from Anarch's tub, 
What Rhetorick graced the orgies of the Club ? 
But now, an injured people, wiser grown, 
Taught dear Experience, by the wrongs they've known ;■ 
This maxim hold, which much fine spouting saves, 
,Ex-clusive patriots are co?z-t:lusive knaves ! 



THE RULING PASSION. 189 

Stern power of justice, whose uplifted hand 
Would sweep from earth Sedition's wayward band ; 
Scourged by their crimes, redeem the scattered host, 
Nor let the remnant of her tribe be lost ; 
With arm relenting, to their morbid gaze, 
The mystick serpent of thy mercy raise : 
The sins of Faction, now deceased, forgive, 
While her repenting sons look up and live ! 

From foreign feud, and civil discord free, 
As is Columbia, may she ever be ! 
May Europe's storms ne'er damp the generous flame. 
Which warms each bosom for his country's fame ! 
Long roll between our shores the Atlantick tide ; 
Wide as our hemispheres, our laws divide ! 
And should some earthquake, with more powerful vent, 
Than that, which Dover's cliffs from Calais rent, 
With prisoned force insurging Neptune's reign. 
Convulse the deep foimdations of the main, 
Till both the continents, in Nature's fright, 
Cleft from their bases, totter to unite ; 
May Fate the closing empires intervene, 
And raise, when Ocean sinks, an Alps between ! 

In realms, where Law and Liberty unite. 
In the broad charter of co-equal right. 
Where publick Will invests the civil sway, 
Where those, who govern, must in turn obey ; 
From Party's chrysalis, unseen to rise, 
The buzzing beetle of Ambition flies. 
What time, those fiends accursed no longer draw 
The People's sanction from the People's law ; 



190 THE RULING PASSION. 

What time, the choral hymn of Union flows. 
And Concord's temple hears a nation's vows ; 
When every sect supports, with patriot zeal, 
One vmiversal creed, the publick weal : 
Then, blest Columbia, shall thy spotless fame 
Shine, like the vestal lamp's perennial flame 1 
Then shall thy car disperse, thy Trident awe 
The hovering hordes of predatory war ; 
Thy neutral flag protect its wealthy sail, 
Freight every tide, and charter every gale ; 
The deep Patowmac's sea-like breast sustain 
The keels of fleets, the commerce of the main : 
And, while their giant shades project from high, 
The walls of Washington shall lift the sky ; 
And see, expanding round thy Civick Dome, 
The bay of Naples, and the towers of Rome 1 

When Asian kingdoms, whelmed in moral guilt, 
By Terror governed, as on rapine built. 
Like lost Palmyra, only shall be known. 
By sculptured fragments of Colossal stone; 
When thou, as musing TuUy paused and wept, 
Where Syracuse and Archimedes slept. 
With solemn Sorrow and with pilgrim feet, 
Shalt trace the shades of Vernon's still retreat, 
And, as the votive marble's faithful page 
Inscribes to Fame the Saviour of his age, 
Shalt dew the knee-worn turf, with streaming eyes, 
Where, urned in dust, the mighty Fabius lies : 
Thy realm, maturing 'mid the feathery flight 
Of ages, trackless as the plumes of light, 



THE RULING PASSION. 191 



In vigorous youth, the vital power shall prove 
Of private Virtue ripening publick Love ; 
Which, iEgis-like, shall more thy foes appal, 
Than China's fence, or Albion's floating wall ; 
Shall bid thy empire flourish and endure, 
Thy people happy, and thy laws secure ; 
Thy Phoenix -Glory renovate its prime. 
Extend with Ocean, and exist with Time. 



NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 



Page 177, line 2. 
That little uiforld, that greater ■tvo7ider, man, 

Oo intimate is the analogy betv/een the physical and moral king- 
doms, that man is not unfrequently styled a microcosm. To define 
every feature of the resemblance, would fill volumes ; and were the 
natural history of this " Biped without feathers/ in all his 
affections, seasons, and properties, written with the greatest per- 
spicacity, it would demand more talent and labour, than the phi- 
losophical or botanical researches of a Linnaeus, or a Darwin. 

Page 177, line 14. 
Than Jove, in Ovid^s "Green-Room" of the gods .' 

There is a Magazine of theatrical biography published annually 
in London, called "The Green-Room ;" which is not only replete 
with sketches of the dramatick characters of the actors and actresses, 
but is sometimes enlivened with the tender anecdote of private 
amour. 

Ovid, who " took a peep behind the curtain" of Olympus, has 
Pasquin-jre<i the intrigues of Jupiter's court in the same figurative 
style of elegant " tete a tete !" 

Page 178, line 16. 
A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts f 
The Egyptian mytholegy was so heterogeneous and absurd, that, 
not confined to the extensive regions of animated nature, that hiero- 
glypical nation stupidity descended to the vegetable world, to fill the 



NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. -193 

niches of their temples. " In Egypt," says a learned writer, "it was 
more difficult to find a man, than a God." 

Page 180, line 2. 

' ■ o^erflotuiii^, yet not full. 



A PARODY on part of the last line in the following passage of Denr 
ham's "Cooper's Hill." 

Though deep, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull ; 
Strong, without rage ; without o'erflovving, full." 

Page 180, lines 11—12. 
Profound in trifles, he can tell, hoiv short 
Were ^sop's le^s, hoiv large was Tully's -wart f 

.Esop, the Phrygian, the most celebrated fabulist of antiquity, 
was not only disfigured in his legs, but was deformed in almost every 
other part of his body. 

Marcus Tullius Cicero, the father of Roman oratory, is said 
to have received his last appellation, from an uncommon excrescence 
on his cheek, resembling a Cicer, or vetch. 

Page 185, line 26. 
Eound to the mouldering' corpse of Penury ! 

Mef entius, a prince of the Tyrrhenes, a contemner of the gods. 
Was the inventor of the savage punishment of binding the devoted 
offender to the putrescent body of some victim, sacrificed to his bar- 
barity. 

Page 186, line S-^&. 
For ne^er ivere veins of ore by chymist fotmd. 
Except, like Hebrew roots, in barren ground. 
Those spots of earth, which are impregnated by mineral strata, 
are generally distinguished by the desolate aridity of their surface, 
which is totally insufficient to support the vegetation even of gram'» 
inous productions. 
35 



194 NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 

Page 187, 9—10. 
Though tuneful MoHoii' s viagick genius graced 
The Ihjhlean melody of Merry's taste ! 
Robert Merry, esquire, the oiily pupil in the school of Collins, 
who possesses the genius of his master, is the author of those ele- 
gant poems in the British Album, signed Delia Crusca, of Paulina — 
the Pains of Memory, and several dramatick pieces. In the summeC 
of 1791, he married Miss Brunton, a celebrated actress in Covent- 
Garden theatre, and no less admired for her pre-eminent talents as a 
daughter of the Buskin, than esteemed as a woman of unblemished 
principles, and polished accomplishments. 

Mrs. Morton, of Dorchester, the reputed authoress of an heroick 
Poem, of much merit, entitled " Beacon-Hill," may, without hesita- 
tion, be announced the American Sappho. 

Page 187, line 14. 
^JVCid -wide Oblivmi's lava bloom ane-w. 
It is a fact, that, in countries, subject to volcanick inundation, 
the subsiding lava super-induces a fertility of soil, not to be equalled 
by the most exuberant luxuriance of the tropical climates. 

Page 187, line 20. 
The Martyrs' sandal cost the God his croivn. 
Empedocles is recorded, in fabulous history, to have leaped 
into the flames of ^tna, to obtain, in the dark ages of paganism, an 
apotheosis for his memory ; but the brass slipper, which he had worn 
during his hermitage in a cave of the mountain, was soon after 
thrown up by the volcano, and exposed the impostor to the world. 

Page 187, line 24. 
Where Virgil first inlMled his natal air. 
This event, so honourary to the character of Buonaparte, took 
place soon after the capitulation of Mantua. The village, which 
boasts the nativity of this immortal bard, lies in the suburbs of that 
city. 



NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 195 

Page 188, line 20. 
While all Vesuvius thundered in his ears. 
The first eruption of this mountain happened in the 79th year of 
the Christian era. Pliny, the elder, a man no less renowned for foren- 
sick than military powers, was at that time commander of a fleet in 
the bay of Miscnum. Unintimidated by the terrible phenomenon, 
he hastened with his ships to the relief of the nobility and peasants, 
whose villas and farms had been ingulphed in the flames. In this, 
benevolent and heroick attempt, he died by suffocation. This erup- 
tion destroyed the cities of Herculaneum, and Pompeii. To support 
the poetick allusion, it may be necessary to add, that the burning* of 
the towns of Charlestown and Fairfield, in the revolutionary war, 
£jflbrds but too prominent a trait in the similitude. 



DEDICATORY ADDRESS ; 



SlfOKEN B\' MR. HODGKINSON, OCTOBER 29, 1798, AT THE 



OPENING OF THE 



NEW FEDERAL THEATRE, 



IN BOSTON. 



Plammis I'cfcctuin, minis virescit, 



DEDICATORY ADDRESS, 



SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF THE BOSTON THEATRE. 



Once more, kind patrons of the Thespian art, 
Friends to the science of the human heart, 
Behold the temple of the Muse aspire, ^ 

A Phoenix stage, which propagates by fire ! 

Each fault rescinded, and each grace renewed, 
By magick reared, and with enchantment viewed, 
Our dome, new mantled, 'mid its ravaged wall, 
Stands, like Antaeus, stronger by its fall ; 
And like Creusa's ghost, in Trojan strife, 
Its spectre rises larger than its life ! 

Ye, who have oft with pleased observance traced 
Each latent charm our mimick life has graced ; 
Whose hearts yet ache, when Retrospection views 
The woes and wanderings of the scenick Muse ; 
Since from the cradle of her young renown. 
Her infant warblings lured the listening town, 
To that dark era, when one luckless hour 
Her empire ravaged, and dethroned her power, 



200 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 

Till proudly towering o'er the Gothick waste 
Through chaos smiled this paradise of taste. 
The mystick maids, who here unite their reign. 
Whom bards and actors oft implore in vain, 
With Truth's warm rapture, bid you welcome all. 
Gents, belles, and godships, to their fairy hall ; 
Where Shakespeare's spirit, who delights to flit 
O'er criticks' noses, snoring in the pit, 
Like Hamlet's father, armed from casque to sandals. 
Shall " visit oft the glimpses of" our candles ! 

If blest by those kind smiles, whose beams impart 
Pulse to the brain, and vigour to the heart, 
The Drama noAV her langu^id powers Avill rear, 
The laugh awaken, and exhale the tear; 
Correct, yet animate, she aims to join 
Salvator's clouds with Hogarth's waving line. 
And hopes, aspiringj by your favour warmed, 
Again to charm you, as she once has charmed. 

Nor need her friends, with Fear's retorted glance. 
Recall the horrors of her late mischance, 
When wrapt in bursting flames, and awful gloom^ 
She saw her temple mouldering to her tomb ! 
No more shall Nero's ravished eye behold 
The usurping element these walls enfold ; 
Nor shall one tear from houseless Genius start. 
To glut the savage pleasure of his heart ! 

To guard our fane,, Apollo tuned his lyre. 
And leagued tlie gods of water and of fire ; 



DEDICATORS ADDRESS. 201 

Crumped Vulcan deigned his Cyclop den to quit, 
And clothe in Panolply the Dome of Wit ; 
While Neptune gave an urn, of such vast use, 
'Tis always filling, like the widow's cruse ! 

Now, (heaven forbid 1) by hidden ways and means, 
Should whelming fire agaia invest our scenes, 
Lest on your heads the blazing roof should fall, 
We'll spring the Aqueduct, and drown you all 1 
" I'll burn first, smoke me," cries a spruce young bobby, 
" Splash me, I shan't be fit to walk the lobby ! 
" If roast or drown's the word, your fire commence, Sir, 
" That clownish water always spots my spencer 1" 

How wise men differ ! Water, some would think, 
Would wash away the stain of taylor's ink ! 
But don't swoon, beaus ! another mode we'll try, 
To save our lives, and keep your ruffles dry. 
From fire and water your escape is certain ; 
Your shield of safety is— -our Iron Curtain ! 

Ladies and gentlemen, my duty claims 
To tell you, that our Stage is all in flames ! 
The fire, though strange to you the sight might be, 
First caught Mont Blanc, and then burnt up the sea ; 
The actors, like Octavian from his cave. 
Rush from the Green-room, not to help, but rave ; 
While each one scampers in the other's way. 
Like fops' umbrellas in a rainy day ! 
But let no belle in sweet hystericks fall ; 
Our Ii'on Curtain will protect you all I 
26 



202 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 

In elder time, when first the Stage was reared, 
'Twas nursed by patriots, and by traitors feared ; 
Its glowing scenes, the fire of States supplied. 
For Valour's praises waked Ambition's pride ; 
And still the Drama, with corrected zeal, 
Exists an engine of the publick weal. 
Smeared with sedition, should the hand profane 
Of plotting knaves, our nation's Chief arraign, 
The indignant Stage would glory in the task, 
From lui-king demagogvies to strip the mask ; 
"Drag the dark traitor into publick shame, 
And nail him to the pillory of Fame ! 
In such a cause, the powers of verse would rise, 
'Till seared, and headless. Faction's hydra dies ; 
And the stern eagle would suspend his wing. 
To listen, while the federal Muses sing. 

No scite of clime can long protect a race, 
Whose souls are reckless of their realm's disgrace. 
Bid stormy oceans roll, and mountains rise. 
Faction will cross them, and pollute your skies ; 
Her cursed miasma speeds its fatal way. 
The gale impregnates, and attaints the day ; 
Her subtle root with equal vigour strikes, 
In Gallia's hotbed, or in Holland's dykes. 
On coldest shores, her rank luxuriance grows, 
As Hecla flames 'mid Tluile's endless snows. 

Where laws are fashioned by the publick will> 
The helm of state demands a master's skill. 
The social compact is a bond so weak. 
The feuds of party can the cement break ; 



JDEDICATORY ADDRESS. 203 

When cracked, like Rupert's drop, it mocks controul, 
Snap but the point, and you destroy the whole, 

In such mild climes, if true to Freedom's cause, 
The people's virtue will support the laws ; 
And Publick Spirit crush, with arm elate, 
The fiend, who dares " to clog the wheels of state." 

In France, whose motley breed extremes delight. 
Who grin like monkeys, or like tygers fight, 
Autun's meek priest, whose conscience knows no qualm, 
Except the cravings of an itching palm ; 
Who, born a miser, and a prelate reared. 
His flock deserted, when their fleece was sheared. 
The ancient patriots from their niches jostles, 
And calls French pirates, Libeity's apostles ! 
This, though the bishop spoke it, is no brag. 
For he's the Judas, and still bears the bag I 

But, thanks to heaven, who propped our wavering state. 
And saved its glory from Venetian fate, 
This silk-worm knave in vain has wound his maze. 
In vain his basilisk eye has fixed its gaze ; 
In vain the holy pimp his toils has spread. 
And smoothed Delilah's lap for Sampson's head, 

Led to the altar, by his wiles ensnared, 
Columbia stood, for sacrifice prepared ; 
High flamed the pyre ; her struggling arms were bound ; 
The steel was lifted for the fatal wound ; 
When, like the angel, who, by God's command, 
The filial off 'ring saved from Abraham's hand, 



204 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 

Our guardian, Adams, robed in light divine, 

Burst through the clouds which veiled the impious shrine ; 

The dagger seized, the felon chords released, 

And snatched the victim from the apostate priest ! 

France stood aghast ; the palsying wonder ran ; 
The five kings trembled in their dark divan ! 
Compelled new schemes of vengeance to devise, 
They changed the lion's for the hyaena's cries. 
No more their menanced wrath assailed our ears ; 
In sooth they seemed, " like Niobe, all tears I" 

As some old Bawd, who all her life hath been 
A fungus, sprouting from the filth of sin; 
Whose dry trunk seasons in the frost of Vice, 
Like radish, saved from rotting by the ice ; 
When threatening bailiffs first her conscience awe, 
Not with the fear of shame, but fear of law, 
Sets out at sixty, in contrition's search, 
Rubs garlick on her eyes, and goes to church ! 

Thus Europe's courtezan, well versed in wileg, 
Whose kisses poison, while the harlot smiles. 
With pious sorrow hears our cannon roar, 
^nd swears devoutly, that she'll sin no more ! 

Our rescued nation long will bless the day, 
Which hailed their Adams cloathed in civick sway ; 
Which saw again our eagle's pinions reared, 
His olive courted, and his arrows feared? 



DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 205 

Long shall the fame of our illustrious Sage, 
The peerless statesman of a peerless age, 
With quenchless splendour beam through many a clime. 
And light the darkling avenues of Time. 
His deeds, on Gloiy's marble page engraved. 
Shall live coeval with the realm, he saved ; 
And when, in Heaven beloved, as honoured here, 
He shines the regent of some brighter sphere. 
Nations shall mark the epoch of his birth, 
With festal gratitude, and sainted mirth ; 
And ages, yet unborn, with grateful breast, 
Shall rise, and call the shadeof Adams blest ! 



206 Address, &©. 



ADDRESS, 



Delivered on the occasion of Master John H. Payne's fii'st appearance on 
the Boston Stage, in the character of Young Norval. 



J RiENDS of the mimick world ! our scenes this night 
An age of fame has sanctioned to delight ! 
Oft to their aid the Fabling Muse has come, 
And called up Roscius, from his shroud at Rome ! 
We, loath to wake again the classick ghost, 
A native Roscius on our boards can boast. 

A shepherd boy, in Celtick fiction drest, 
The fire of Nature struggling in his breast, 
Forsook his cottage to atchieve a name, 
And found a mother, where he sought for Fame ! 
Proud from her hand, the laurel he receives, 
While tears of rapture glitter on its leaves ! 

This night, a brother champion will advance, 
In Thespian tournament to break the lance I 
He throws no gauntlet at a critick age. 
Nor dares with wits a rude encounter wage ; 
Yet, like the Norval of a sterner clime. 
He hopes a boy's ambition is no crime ! 
Like him, he dares aspire to earn a name. 
Your heart, his mother, your applause, his fame 1 



ADDRESS, &c. 207 

Blest, if your eyes with beams of Pleasure burn ; 
And humbly proud, if they correct, to learn ! 

Thus, would he preface, with ingenuous tongue, 
That manly worth, which should not pass unsung. 
Though o'er his head Life's spring has scarcely smiled, 
A classick actor cannot be a child ! 
The rays of Fancy youthful bosoms warm. 
Learning and Life, maturer minds inform ! 
Yet here, in manhood's dawn, he dares to raise 
The torch of Science, to the shrine of Praise ! 
By Genius fired, he yields to Passion's glow ; 
Nor I'ules by verse the prosody of woe ! 
The tear of feeling Art can ne'er supply ; 
The heart must moisten, e'er it melts the eye ! 

His caves of voice no measured thunders roll ; 
He speaks from nature, and he looks from sovil ! 
In all the Drama's technick lore untaught, 
He reads by sentiment, and moves by thought. 
When love-lorn Pathos pours its melting moan, 
Truth's fibre trembles at his touching tone ! 
When o'er the scene contending Passions fly, 
He gi"oups the shadows with a Poet's eye. 
And when his brows the hero's plumes erect, 
" The blood of Douglas, can itself protect ;" 
Through Fiction's range, he gives, with skill profound. 
Genius to Grace, and eloquence to Sound ! 
The tragick code of artificial speech 
Taste may reject, or discipline may teach; 
But, as the eye the trackless ridge explores, 
Genius o'erleaps the cliff, where Labour never soai's I 



208 ADDRESS, &c. 

A humble weed transplanted from the waste, 
Formed the proud chapiter of Grecian taste. 
Chance dropped the weight its yielding foliage twined. 
And drooped, with graceful negligence inclined. 
Sculpture a model saw, to Art unknown, 
Copied the form, and turned the plant to stone ! 
The chiselled weed adorned the Temple's head, 
And gods were worshipped, where its branches spread 
If in our Norval, candid judges find 
Some kindred flower, to grace the stage designed ; 
If, to the pressure, Fortune has imposed, 
You owe those talents. Art had ne'er disclosed ; 
If, like the graced Acanthus he appear, 
Be you Callymachus, be Corinth here ! * 



EPILOGUE, &c. 209 

EPILOGUE 

TO THB soldier's DAUGHTI^R. 

|;Spoken by Mrs. Stanley, in the character of the Widow Cheerly.] 

JjEFORE the fatal knot is fairly tied ; 
Before I change the widow for the bride ^ 
Once more at this tribunal I appear, 
A Soldier's Daughter and a volunteer. 
Such am I now, though not by martial laws, 
I volunteer it, in my sex's cause. 
Ladies, I one proposal fain would make. 
And trust you'll hear it for your country's sake. 
While glory animates each manly nerve. 
Shall gentle woman from the contest swerve ? 
No! 

We'll form a female army— of reserve ; 
And class them thus : Young romps, are pioneers; 
Widows, sharp-shooters ; wives, are fusileers ; 
Maids, are battalion, that's — .all under twenty ; 
And as for light troops, we have those in plenty ! 
Our smart, gay milliners, all decked with feather^ 
Are corps of infantry for summer weather ! 
Our belles, who, clad in cap and pantaloons 
Shoot as they fly, shall be our light dragoons. 
Old maids are spies ; still fond of war's alarms, 
They love the camp, although they don't bear armsi ! 
Flirts are our van ; for they, provokmg elves ! 
Draw on a battle ; but ne'er fight themselves. 
27 



210 EPILOGUB TO THE 

Our prudes shall sap and mine ; well versed to feign. 
They fear no danger, though in ambush ta'en ; 
For who'd suspect a prude, could lay a train ? 
Gossips, who talk by rote, and kill by prattle, 
Shall serve for bulletins to every battle. 
Vixens the trumpet blow ; scolds beat the drum ; 
When thus prepared, what enemy dare come ? 
Those eyes, that even freemen could enslave, 
Will light a race of vassals, to their grave, ; 
So shall the artillery of female charms 
Repel invaders, without force of arms. 

If this succeeds, as I the scheme have planned, 
I hope, at least, the honour of command. 
Trained on this field, and disciplined by you, 
I'm doomed to pass your critical review ; 
For all recruits are, by the law's direction. 
Women, or soldiers, subject to inspection. 
In love, or arms, which claims the greater skill, 
Eyes that can lufle, or carbines that kill ? 
Which best displays the tacticks of the art, 
To storm a city, or subdue a heart ? 
Yet one distinction woman's fate obtains ; 
When towns capitulate the victor reigns ; 
The vassal prisoner bows him to the stroke, 
And owns the master, that imposed the yoke. 
But woman, vanquished, still pursues the strife. 
She yields her freedom, to become a wife, ?" 
And thus surrenders, but to rule for life I ,Jf 
A Carthian war she wages with her eyes ; 
Routed, she triumphs, and, triumphant, flies : 



SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER. 211 

For new campaigns, she deigns to be outdone, 
And grounds her arms to slaves, her eyes have won. 

Not so the band, who till Columbia's soil, 
Disdaining peril, and invired to toil, 
A firm, proud phalanx, whose undaunted hand 
A bulwark rears to guard their native land ; 
And teach invading foes, that host to fear, 
Which boast the name of patriot volunteer. 
What say ye now ? If you approve my plans. 
Receive your genei;al, with " presented fans !" 

Now, brother soldiers, dare I sisters join ? 
If you, this night, your efforts should combine, 
To save our corps from anxious Hope and Fear, 
And send out Mercy as a volunteer, 
To whose white banner should the criticks flock, 
Our rallying numbers might sustain the shock ; 
The sword shall drop, then cease impending slaughter, 
If Mercy's shield protect — the Soldier's Daughter. 



312 VALEDICTORY ADDRESS. 



The following lines were spoken as a Valedictory Address, by Miss FoXj 
a child about five years old, at her benefit in May 1807. 



X* AREWELL, a long farewell ! dear patrons, friends I 
This parting scene my infant bosom rends, 
For spite of all my joy to see you here, 
My heart will throb, and gush the frequent tear. 
In you, my foster parents I behold ; 
Your kindness bade my tender mind unfold ; 
Warmed by your smiles, you saw me sportive run, 
A little insect, fluttering in the sun ; 
Urchin I am, but me you've always loved, 
My faults you pardoned, and my ti'icks approved ; 
My heart will break to be removed from you, 
And oh ! my mother-^she has loved you too. 
Full well you knew the faults of childish years ; 
The bud must blossom, e'er the fruit appears ; 
And oft, by smiling, you have seemed to say, 
I'd grow a woman on some future day. 
And then, some beau gallant my face might charm, 
" Heaven save the mark," these eyes may do some harm^ 
Oh ! how I've longed, that I might older grow. 
To join this mimick world of joy and woe ; 
And teach some future scene, with graceful ease. 
To charm like Stanley, or like Powell please j 
But, oh ! those' fairy prospects now are o'er. 
Farewell ! perhaps we part to meet no more ; ^ 

s 



VALEDICTORY ADDRESS, 213 

Pardon a child, forgive her artless tears, 

She leaves the friends she loves, esteems, reveres ; 

Whate'er in life may be my varied lot, 

Boston, dear Boston, ne'er shall be forgot ; 

Nor time shall bar, nor distance interfere, 

My heart shall still return to visit here j 

And if Success attend my riper days. 

How proud I'll be to have deserved your pi'aise. 

Farewell, a sad farewell ! sires, guardians, friends ! 
May Heaven, whose bounty all our blessings sends, 
Pluck from Life's path the thorn that would molest, 
And smooth Death's pillow, as you sink to rest ! 
And then receive you, borne on white winged hours. 
Through opening clouds, to Joy's eternal bowers 1 



214 EPILOGUE TO THE 



EPILOGUE 

TO THE clergyman's DAUGHTER- 

Gay, as the belle, who lightens down the ball, 
While half, who gaze, can scarcely move at all ; 
Pert, as the elf, who, at a tonsor's shop, 
Pops in a phantom, and pops out a fop ; 
As vain, as beauty, and as fashion, witty, 
A tooth-pick Epilogue should lounge the city : 
And prattle, comme il faut^ — 'with nought to say, 
A world of words— 'the newest kind of way I 

Such was dame Epilogue, when blithe and young, 
Of every belle she was herself the tongue ; 
Then, a whole peerage would a play engage, 
If she but simpered, " All the world's a stage," 
But now, in vain she sports her ancient airs. 
For all the " men and women" have turned " players." 
Such is the strife among the motley rout, 
They strip the actors, v/hile they turn them out. 
From Shakespeare's wardrobe each a fragment snatches, 
And bustles through his part — in " shreds and patches 'T 
All loud alike, none perfect but in scraps, 
They all gesticulate, but no one claps. 
Puns by descent, ai^e wit by common law ; 
And every foundling bon mot knows papa ! 



CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 215 

No prompter checks the jargon universal, 

For Life's a Spouting Club, — witliout rehearsal. 

The smart frizeur, who deals in tropes and strops, 
Exclaims—" a frost, a killing frost," — in crops ! 
And vents, at fashion's cue, all cues to doff, 
" A deep damnation on their taking off ! !" 
The fop demurs — " to be or not to be ;" 
" Off with his head 1" roars Bobadil, and clips — a flea ! 
" We fly by night 1" — while boasts the swindling spark, 
Tipstaff " peeps through the blanket of the dark ! 
" My bond, — I'll have my bond,"— «old Foreclose cries ; 
" Who steals my purse steals trash," — the bard replies ; 
" Out, damned spot 1" snarls old Miss Pimple Fret ; 
" There's rue for you," — whispers her arch soubrette. 
The love-sick cook-maid lisps— hist, Romeo, hist 1" 
" And snip, — ^the tailor, — rants, " List, list, oh ! list !" 

While thus the stage is filled with masquerade, 
And bankrupt Thespis mourns his plundered trade. 
What, if in turn, — 'tis justice fairly due, — 
The actor's eye-glass takes a squint at you ! 

Sir Fopling Classick is a wight, I ween, 
Who reads to quote, and dresses to be seen ; 
The prince of folly, and the fool of wit, 
He plots a dinner, to campaign a hit ; 
With well-drest wisdom, tout a fait he looks, 
The sage of fashion and bon-ton of books. 
In scenick unities so sti'ict is he. 
Time, place and action — touch and take rappee ! 



216 EPILOGUE TO THE 

Anon, heigho ! -his critick sneeze emphatick, 
Proclaims the raptui^es of effect dramatick. 
In life's great play — no Stagyrite to shine — > 
His plot is woman, and his moral wine. 
Thus with a muse, a mistress and a bottle, 
Gay Skelfington surmounts grave Aristotle. 

His own reverse, and yet himself the time, 
A bard in powder, and a beau in rhyme ; — 
A man of coral, — such are fashion's powers ! 
A plant of stone, — that vegetates and flovrers ; 
A fragrant exhalation,— ^raised to fade,— . 
From roseate rhetorick, and rose pomade ; — 
A sweet confection, fit for love or — ^tea, 
A lettered lozenge,— stuffed — poetice ;— . 
Sir Fopling dashes, while his goblet pours. 
And who can doubt, an empty glass encores I 
His tropes and figures into ferment whipt. 
See, in the froth of words, his tube is dipt ! 
The bubble floats, — from classick suds refined, — 
It shines — it bursts — land leaves no foam behind ! 
Choice spirits all — his scavoir -vivre club 
Have tickled trouts, and sure may hook a chub ! 

Who delves to be a Avit, must own a mine, 
In wealth must glitter, ere in taste he shine ; 
Gold buys him genius, and no churl will rail. 
When feasts are brilliant, that a pun is stale. 
Tip wit with gold ; — each shaft with shouts is flown ;—> 
He drinks Campaign, and must not laugh alone. 
The grape has point, although the joke be flat 1 
Pop ! goes the cork !— .there's epigram iu that ! 



CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 21 5*" 

The spouting bottle is the brisk jet d' eau^ 
Which shows how high its fountain head can throw ! 
See ! while the foaming mist ascends the room, 
Sir Fopling rises in the vif perfume I 

But ah ! the classick knight at length perceives 
His laurels drop with fortune's falling leaves. 
He vapours cracks and clenches as before, 
But other tables have not learnt to roar. 
At last, in fashion bankrupt, as in pence. 
He first discovers undiscovered sense — 
And finds,— without one jest in all his bags, — « 
A wit in ruffles is a fool in rags ! 

Lorn through the lobby see the Poet steal, 
Fregetting life, while he can live to feel; 
To blank oblivion yielding private woe. 
While publick virtue gives one tear to flow ; 
And, charmed with fiction, that her sorrows bless^ 
His fancy riots in the loved distress. 
But ah ! — illusion sweet of tears and smiles. 
Where virtue revels, while romance beguiles, 
What cheerless hours doth destiny delay. 
Till recollected life returns with day ! — 
When he, who wanders with a poet's name, 
Must live on friendship, while he starves on fame ! 

Blest be the bard, whose tender tale inspires 
The passioned scene with virtue's holiest fires ; 
Who draws from brightest eyes the moistened soul 
And bids their tributes glitter, as they roll ! 



28 



218 EPILOGUE TO THE 

To moral truth when loveliest grace is given, 

The smile of Beauty is a ray from heaven ; — 

Soft as the fairy web, Arachne weaves 

To ward the night-dew from the lily's leaves ; 

Chaste as the pity of Aurora's teai's, 

When the web trembles with the pearl it bears. 

Yon dapper Dash- — who screens the lobby fire— i 
Is doughty Peter Paragraph, Esquire,— 
Forever knov/ing — and forever known,— 
The gay Court Calender — of all the town. 
His brilliant fancy wings such rapid flights, 
That his pen flashes, — like the noi'thern lights ! 
On fashion's face he marks each patch and pimple, — 
Notes all the Belle Assemble— -to a dimple I 
Keeps dates of wrinkles — sets each freckle down,'— = 
And knows the age of each old maid in. town ! 
—Puff, and Post Obit, — ^naught is he perplexed on,- 
And, Death or Mari'iage, — he is Clerk or Sexton ! 
Whate'er the theme, — his is the quill to grace it, — 
From " consumatum est"— to grave—" hie jacet !" 
Wherever folly lies — in wise perdue, — 
Quick as heat lightning—- and as harmless too, 
He splinters Avords, as gamesters rattle dice^ - 
And sparkles, like a man, who chops on ice^ 
In daily lounge, Cornhill pave he passes. 
To study signs, and ogle looking glasses I 
His spleen — at vulgar gutters — ^never I'ankles ; 
He thanks their mud — for every pair of ankles ! 
Nor thinks, — while feasting on caprice and whim, — 
One grace too naked, or one fop too slim ! 



CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 219 

Belles, beaux, and blankets, — ^tiffanies and teas,—- 
He borrows all he knows, from all he sees« 
Then home for fame, — ^to scribble to be sure,— - 
For every traveller must write a tour ;— ■ 
He gives the world the gleanings of his ramble. 
As nuts are thrown to monkies,— for a scramble ! 

Eh ! — I've a full length Critick in my eye 1 
Shall I or not ?— He'll cateh me, or I'd try I 
Egad, I'm in for't ! — see, he's at me too ! 
Pray, Sir, turn round,-— I'll take a profile view. 
Nay ! — ^nouns and pronouns save such want of grace 1 
A Poet look a critick in the face ! 
Such courage ne'er was known 'mong rhyming elves. 
Since they, who're criticks now, wrote tags themselves. 
Streams, when neglected, sink to common sewers. 
And disappointed Authors turn Reviewers !* 
Like stagnant pools, they breathe putrescent air, 
From the green film, their fetid bosoms bear. 
Fie ! — frown not,— -we, who catch the trick of faces. 
Must rouse the passions, to excite the graces : 
Now, — in what Act, Sir, was our— e/iitasis ? 
The busy, bustling action of our play ? 
f' The scenes with Abigail" — ha ! there you say !— 
" The eyes of beauty beamed with lightning thei-e," 
" When hopeless virtue pi'oudly spurned despair." 
Caught by a twinkle from " the eye of beauty 1" 
A Critick too !— -most Stocick Sir, — my duty. — < 
Nature will break,— encase her how you willy-ri? 
A Cat in pattens is Grimalkin still. 

* These two lines arc altered from tlie " Children of Thespis." 



220 EPILOGUE TO THE 

But soft, he speaks — " An Epilogue may sport 

" With a broad patent, like a fool at court ; 

" But while you laugh by text, and rail by rote, 

" Your author's fable has our warmest vote."—* 

I thank you, Sir, — I'll have that down by note. 

■" His Hero needs no advocate at bar ; — 

" We see his virtues in its native spar ! 

Now,— what of Sindal ? — How did he appeal* ? 

*' Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear !" 

" In crime accomplished, and in wit refined, 

" His very genius blurred the grace of mind." 

But what of Gripe ? — " Such knaves elude the law, 

*^ And live, like leeches, on the blood they draw. 

*' When Gripe the balance with his conscience made, 

" He kept his vices, as his stock in trade.— « 

"Spawned in the alley, by its logick reared, 

" He shaves a note, as Smallpeace shaves a beard ; 

" And both so well their office understand, 

" They trim you smooth,' — and yet conceal the hand I'* 

Oh ! what is man, who, thus debased by pelf. 
All human nature sinks in human self; 
Who basely pilfers, with unfeeling joy, 
A mother's picture from an artless boy ! 
When man's deserting soul forsakes his breast, 
To pine a death-watch in a miser's chest, 
The starving hypocrite allegiance swears. 
To gold and grace, to poverty and prayers ; 
And, not one joy his flickering lamp to cheer, 
Lives without love, and dies without a tear ! 
Such are the, " Gripes," the meanest of their tribe, 
Who cheat themselves, and chuckle at the bribe ; 



CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 22 1 

Who bury nature, ere her mortal doom, 
And drag existence in a living tomb. 

In life's dark cell, pale bums their glimmering soul ; 
A rush-light warms the winter of the pole. 
To chill and cheerless solitude confined. 
No spring of virtue thaws the ice of mind. 
They creep in blood, as frosty streamlets flow, 
And freeze with life, as dormice sleep in snow. 
Like snails, they bear their dungeons on their backs, 
^nd shut out light, — ^to save a window tax ! 

Not so gay Coelebs lives, nor wife, nor child, 
E'er blessed his arms, or on his bounty smiled ; 
Yet, touched by nature, his affections glow, 
And claim their kindred to the man of woe. 
Mid wine and mirth while rolls his daily round, 
The secret want, the meek distress is found ; 
Silent as light, and, like its source, serene. — 
His bounty gives unknown, and warms unseen. 
He feels, while tears the sacred joy confess, 
Man likens God, when he has power to bless, 

Criticks there are, who boast a noble race ; 
Who twine with genius every lettered grace ; 
Candid to censure, generous to commend. 
The polished scholar, and the faithful friend. 
Loved by the Muse, they feel the poet's fire, 
And soothe the minstrel, while they tune his lyre ; 
On private merit, publick fame they raise. 
For everj' Nation shares its Author's praise. 



222 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER, 



EPILOGUE 



TO THE POOR LODGER. 



-En^er Harriet. 



W iTH anxious heart, that beats for perils past, 
Your happy Harriet now comes home, at last : 
A home, indeed ! where oft, each generous mind 
With fame has cheered her, and with taste refined ; 
Where first, her powers indulgent to disclose, 
You op'd the petals of the budding rose ; 
Bade the young stalk, with trembling blossoms, rise, 
Warmed by your beams, though foreign to your skies, 
And placed, — oh, grateful joy I with fondest care, 
The fostei'ed flow'ret in your own fiarterre I ' 

Enter Sir Harry, 

Sir Har. Sure, such a flower would flourish, any where I 

Har. Gallant, Sir Harry— 

Sir Har. — Harley, happy lover ! 

But I, as happy, am for life,— 

Har. —a rover — 

Forever on a voyage,- 

Sir Har. —that ne'er is over. 

Har. Spoke like a gownsman — 

Sir Har. — No, I scorn the schools, 

Wit may be wisdom, but all wits are fools. 



EPILOGUE TO TfiE POOR LODGEE. 223 

Har. The slaves of fools — ^the most unlucky elves- 
Life's feast they cater — 

Sir Har. — ^but ne'er eat themselves—* 

One bliss they have, all other joys, above— 

Enter Lord Harley. 

L. Har. What's that, Sir Harry ?— 
Sir Har. ( With allusion.) —To be blest in love. 
L. Har. And none should envy, whom the fair approve. 
Sir Har. (Assuming himself.) White hours attend you—/ 
bang «/z— Adieu ! 
Ask not my rout — for none I ever knew — 
And yet there's one I always shall pursue — 
(Mimicking.) Cross channel, take chaise, down glass, look 

profound— 
" Eh ! — I say — Coachee-^-whither am I bound ?" 

^Going off ; noise without.^ betiveen the Widow and 
Joblin. Sir Harry lookiiig out. 
Prime .'—Our old widow sparring like Mendozal 

Widow entering, and Joblin. 

Wid. Not I ! don't think I'll pay— 

Job. — Dick's ybrft'w— 

Wid. —No, Sir, 

Maifois ! (Bridling.) 

Job. I'll charge it, then, as I'm— 

Dick. (Pofiping in.) — a grocer. 

Job. Dick, claim your rights, and don't stand there a grin- 
ning— 

Wid. You marry Harriet — 

Dick. —Yes — I'm very winning—- 

I courted purely— 



224 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER, 

Job. —-put on all his graces— 

And looked and talked' — 

Dick. —as fine as aunty's lace is. 

Sir Har. And sighed, no doubt, as sweet as father's mace isi 

Wid. No wife, no fortune — 

Sir Har. — 'what a city drove ! 

Dick. Then / be certain, / be crossed in love — 

L. Har. Ne'er mind it, Dick, 'tis no great odds in life, 
To lose a fortune, or,— 

Job. —to gain a wife— 

Sir Har. C Who has been reconnoitering the Widow.) 
Pray, did this gay antique ere chance to pop 
Within the purlieus of a frizeur's shop ? 

Wid. Did'st ever see, the making — 

Sir Har. ■ — of— 

Dick. —a fop ! 

Sir Har. Prime and bang up ! — Why, widow, Dick's a wit ; 
Give him the fortune, he'll have need of it ! 

Job. Nay, fear not, Dick — be witty as you will — 
1 wrote a rebus once — 

Dick. — who nibbed the quill ? 

L. Har. (To Widow Danvers, who has been talking afiart 
with him. At the same time Poor Lodger enters above.) 
Your generous offer I can ne'er reprove ; 
But I have wealth enough in Harriet's love. 

Har. (Advancing.) Nay, since a fortune be in search of 
owners, 

P.Lodg. (Coming down.) Adopt our author, and be you 
the donors ! (To the audience.) 
{"ortUne, who feeds all other fools on earth. 
Was never present at a Poet's biith ! 



EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 225 

ThI oaf of Nature all her care partakes ; 

The child of mind she smiles on, and forsakes. 

And though each Muse has sought her fond regard— 

Job. She ne'er would stand godmother to a bard. 

P. Lodg. Each well-dressed driv'ler lettered fame exacts. 

Sir Har. Well ! — Books are lettered only on their backs. 
There's pedigree in dress ; none else has charms ; 
A coat of fashion is a coat of arms ! 

P. Lodg. Hence the wise world, not wiser than of old, 
That toiling chemist, still extracting gold, 
Neglecting still Wealth's noblest use and end, 
To polish man, and social life defend,^ 
Calls sacred genius Nature's waste of pains, 
The gift of Fortune— 

Job. C Who has beenJidgeiting.J—CxiVGS the want of brains ! 

Wid. There, Dick— 

Sir Har. — Conclusive^— . 

Dick. —Father, don't you sham ? 

Job. I'll prove, by ledger — 

Dick. ^what a wit I am. 

Ha?: Since then a wit yourself with wealth ; to spare it. 
Reward our Poet — - 

Job. — he shall have our garret I 

Dick. No father — had " Poor Lodgers" there, enough. 

Sir Har. What would your wisdom, then ? — 

Dick. — wi'ite him a Puff ! 

Har. Truce to our trifling ; — now, our author craves 
'i'hat just decision, which condemns, or saves. 

P. Lodg. ( Coming forward.) A father, rescued by a child, 
disowned — 

Har. Has, by his kindness, every fault atoned, 

29 



226 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 

X. Har. We all are wanderers—- all mistake our way— . 

P. Lodg. Yet faithful Nature never goes astray. 
Life's a great Inn ; and each is but a guest j 
Beneath this roof, then, let us take our rest. 
And while, to errors past, I drop a tear — 

Har. May our " Poor Lodger" find a welcome, here ! 



MONODY 



ON THE DEATH OF 



LIEUTENANT GENERAL SIR JOHN MOORE. 



"He was the mark and glass, copy and book, 
" That fashioned others." Shakespeare. 



MONODY. 



Scene, Comnna....Tiu%, Evening Tnvittght. 

W HAT glitt'ring form sweeps hurried o'er the main. 
And, hov'ring, ponders o'er yon dark champaign, 
Where bleak Corunna's bleeding waste extends. 
And war's red bolt from bursting clouds descends ? 
I know Thee now, by thy majestiek charms ; 
Bright Island Goddess, Queen of arts and arms ! 

High on thy barque, alone, thou spurn' st the flood, 
Which deluged nations still o'erwhelms with blood. 
The foaming tempest, Avhile it strikes thy shore^ 
Exalts tliy flag, and bids thy forests roar. 
Calm on tlie surge, thy fixed, unaltering eye 
Surveys the storm that breaks against the sky j 
O'er mountain waves, along the whirlwind's race, 
It dares tlie journey of the blast to trace. 

But now, alas ! thy robes imperial flow, 
In all the frantick negligence of woe ; 



230 MONODY ON MOORE. 

With burning bosom, o'er the darkling wave, 

Thou com'st to kneel beside thy Warriolir's grave j 

Where sacred sleeps, in village turf enshrined, 

That gallant form, w^hich breathed a nation's mind. 

Fame o'er his recent sod no statue i^ears, 

But Victory writes his epitaph in tears ! ' 

Let Triumph weep ! In Freedom's generous van 

To die for glory, is to die for man ; 

The bleeding Patriot, with a seraph's eye, 

Sees through each wound a passage to the sky. 

Lamented Moore ! how loved, how graced, wert Thou ! 
What air majestick dazzled on thy brow ! 
By genius raised, and by ambition fired, 
To die distinguished, as to live admired ; 
In battle brilliant, as in council grave ; 
Stern to encounter, but humane to save ; 
Virtue and valour in thy bosom strove, 
Which most should claim our homage or our love. 
In thee they flowed without the pulse of art. 
The throbbing life-blood of thy fervid heart ; 
While, warm from Nature, panting Honour drew 
That vital instinct. Heaven imparts to few ; 
That pride of arms, which prompts the brave design. 
That grace of soul, which makes the brave divine ! 

His heart elate, with modest valour bold. 
Beat with fond rage, to vie with chiefs of old. 
Great by resolve, yet by example warmed, 
Himself the model of his glory formed. 
A glowing trait from every chief he caught ; 
He paused like Fabius, and like Cesar fought. 



MONODY ON MOORE. 231 

His ardent hope surveyed the heights of fame, 
peep on its rocks, to grave a soldier's name ; 
And o'er its cliifs to bid the banner wave, 
A Briton fights, to conquer and to save. 

On martial ground, the school of heroes' taught. 
He studied battles, where campaigns were fought. 
By science led, he traced each scene of fame. 
Where war had left no stone without a name. 
Hills, streams and plains bore one extended chart 
Of warriors' deeds, and showed of anus the art. 
The tactick canvass all its lore revealed. 
To seize the moment, and dispose the field. 
Here, still and desperate, near the midnight pass. 
Couched ambush listened in the deep morass ; 
There, Skill, opposed by Fortune, shaped its way. 
With prompt decision, and with firm array ; 
Here, paused the fight, and there the contest raved, 
A squadron routed, or an empire saved ! * 

Inspired on fields, with trophied interest graced, 
He sighed for glory, where he mused from taste. 
For high empi^ize his dazzling helm was plumed, 
And all the polished patriot-hero bloomed. 
Armed as he strode, his glorying country saw, 
That fame was virtue, and ambition law ; 
In him beheld, with fond delight, conspire 
Her Marlboro's fortune and her Sidney's fire- 
Like Calvi's rock, with clefts abrupt deformed. 
His path to fame toiled up the breach, he stormed ; 
Till o'er the clouds the victor chief was seen. 
Sublime in terrour, and in height serene." 



232 MONODY ON MOORE. 

His equal mind so well could triumph greet, 
He gave to conquest charms, that soothed defeat. 
The battle done, his bi'ow, with thought o'ercast, 
Benign as mercy, smiled on perils past. 
The death-choaked fosse, the battered wall, inspired 
A sense, that sought him, from the field retired. 
Suspiring pity touched that godlike heart, 
To which no peril could dismay impart ; 
And melting pearls in that stern eye could shine, 
That lightened courage down the thundering line. 
So mounts the sea-bird in the Boreal sky, 
And sits where steeps in beetling ruin lie ; 
Though warring whirlwinds curl the Norway seas. 
And the rocks tremble, and the torrents freeze ; 
Yet is the fleece, by Beauty's bosom prest. 
The down, that warms the storm-beat Eyder's breast ; 
Mid floods of frost, where Winter smites the deep. 
Are fledged the plumes, on which the Graces sleep. 

In vain thy cliffs, Hispania, lift the sky. 
Where Cesar's eagles never dared to fly ! 
To rude and sudden arms while Freedom springs, . 
Napoleon's legions mount on bolder wings. 
In vain thy sons their steely nerves oppose, 
Bare to the rage of tempests and of foes ; 
In vain, with naked breast, the storm defy 
Of furious battle, and of piercing sky ; 
Five waning reigns had marked in long decay, 
The gloomy glory of thy setting day ; ^ 
While bigot power, with dark and dire disgraccj 
Oppressed the valour of thy gallant race. 



MONODY ON MOORE. 2SS 

No martial phalanx, led by veteran art, 
Combined thy vigour, or confirmed thy heart : 
Thy bands dispersed, like Rome in wild defeat, 
Fled to the mountains, to intrench retreat. ^ 

O'er hill, or vale, where'er thy sky descends, 

The pomp of hostile chivalry extends. 

High o'er thy brow, the giant glaive is rearedj 

Deep in the wounds of bleeding nations smeared. 

Ere Britain's shield could catch th' impending blade, 

Thy helm was shattered, and thy arm dismayed. 

Yet, while the faulchion fell, thy brave ally 

Cheered, with a blaze of mail, thy closing eye ; 

By hosts assailed, her little Spartan band 

Braved the swift onset, and the cool command. 

t 

Historick glory rushed through British veins. 
And shades of Heroes stalked Corunna's plains ; 
While Gallia saw, amid the battle's glare, 
That Minden, Blenheim, Agincourt, were there ! 

Loved as the sport, where erst, on Abraham's height, 
Fate aimed her dart, as victory glanced her light : 
Where bleeding Wolfe, with virtue's calmest pride, 
Enjoyed the Patriot, while the Warriour died : 

Firm, as the conflict, when the tumults roar 
Rome's last great Hero woke on Egypt's shore ; 
When Abercrombie swelled the urn of fame. 
And mixed his dust with Pompey's mighty name : 

Bold, as the blast, which winged the blaze of war, 
Jlound the rough rocks of trembling Trafalgar ; 
30 



234 MONODY ON MOORE. 

When Nelson, lightening o'er the maddened wave, 
Bade Ocean quake beneath liis coral cave ; 
And, heavenward gazing, as his God retired, 
Thundered in triumph, and in flames expired : 

Illustrious Moore, by foe and famme prest, 
Yet, by each soldier's proud affection blest, 
Unawed by numbers, saw the impending host, 
With front extending, lengthen down the coast. 
" Charge ! Britons, Charge 1" the exulting chief exclaims, 
Swift moves the field ; the tide of armour flames ; 
On, on they rush, the solid column flies, 
And shouts tremendous, as the foe defies. 
While ail the battle rung from side to side, 
In death to conquer, was the warriour's pride. 
Where'er the unequal war its tempest poured, 
The leading meteor was his glittering sword 1 
Thrice met the fight ; and thrice the vanquished Gaul 
Found the firm line an adamantine wall. 
Again repulsed, again the legions drew. 
And fate's dark shafts in vollied shadows flew. 
Now stormed the scene, where soul could soul attest, 
Squadron to squadron joined, and breast to breast ! 
From rank to rank, the interpid valour glowed ; 
From rank to rank, the inspiring Champion rode. 
Loud bi'oke the war-cloud, as his charger sped ; 
Pale the curved lightening quivered o'er his head I 
Again it bursts ! Peal, echoing peal, succeeds ! 
The bolt is launched ; the peerless Soldier bleeds I 
Hark ! as he falls. Fame's swelling clarion cries, 
Britania triumphs, though her Hero dies I 



MONODY ON MOORE. 235 

The grave, he fills, is all the realm she yields, 
And that proud empire deathless honour shields. 
No fabled PhcEnix from his bier revives ; u 
His ashes perish, but his Country lives ! 

Immortal Dead ! with musing awe, thy foes 
Tread not the hillock, where thy bones repose ! 
There, sacring mourner, see, Britania spreads 
A chaplet, glistening with the tears she sheds ; 
With burning censer, glides around thy tomb, 
And scatters incense, where thy laurels bloom ; 
With rapt devotion sainted vigil keeps ; 
Shines with Religion, and with Glory weeps ; 
With Grief exults, with Extacy deplores ; 
With Pride laments, and with despair adores ! 
Sweet sleep Thee, Brave ! In solemn chaunt, shall sound 
Celestial vespers, o'er thy sacred ground ! 
Long ages hence, in pious twilight seen. 
Shall quires of seraphs sanctify thy green ; 
At curfcAV hour, shall dimly hover there. 
And charm, with sweetest dirge, the listening air ! 
With homage tranced, shall eveiy pensive mind 
Weep, while the requiem passes on the wind ; 
Till, sadly swelling, Sorrow's softest notes, 
It dies in distance, while its echo floats ! 

No stoneless sod shall hold that mighty shade. 
Whose life could man's wide universe pervade. 
No mould'ring prison of sepulchral earth. 
In dumb oblivion, shall confine thy worth ; 
The battle heath shall lift thy mai'ble fame, 
And grow immortal, as it marks thy name. 



236 MONODY ON MOOBE. 

Heaven's holiest tears shall nightly kiss thy dust, 
That dawn's first smiles may gem the hero's bust ; 
And pilgrim Glory, in remotest years, 
■ Shall seek thy tomb, to read the tale, it bears, 

EPITAPH. 

" Stop, Ruin ! stay thy scythe ! here slumbers Moore ; 
" Whom Honour nurtured, and whom Virtue bore ! 
"A nation's hope, adored by all the brave ; 
^* Heaven caught his soul, and Earth reveres his grave ! 
" Sublime, the Christian, and the Hero, trod ; 
« His Country all, he loved, and all, he feared his God !" 



NOTES TO THE MONODY. 237 



NOTES. 



NOTEl. 

"^ squadron routed, or an empire saved.** 

J.T has been universally allowed, that the classical and military 
advantages of Sir John Moore's education were superiour to those 
of any modern English General. These great opportunities of im- 
provement to his tactical intuition were afforded in the school of 
living history, on the scite of battles, marked with the vestiges of 
victory and defeat, of stratagem and fortune. The scenes, over 
which he dwelt with the fondest devotion, were those, which had 
formed the theatre of the wars of the illustrious Frederick; 
a hero, who, on one day could not place his foot on one inch 
of sand, which would own his impression as a master ; and who, on 
on the next day, was the lord of an empire, and, by the fame of his 
talents, the awe, the astonishment and the admiration of Europe. 
The line of the poem above quoted alludes to the celebrated battle, 
which achieved this glorious event. 

Had this distinguished military prince transmitted to the present 
incumbent on his throne that character and science of arms, which 
were so much admired, and so enthusiastically studied by Sir John, 
when he travelled under the tutelage of his father, with the Duke of 
Hamilton — the day, in which we live, would have been spared the 
shame to have witnessed the disgraceful and perfidious flight of 
Jena, nor would it have so painfully perceived the terrible distinc- 
tion, between, 

"A squadron routed, or an empire saved!" 



238 NOTES TO THE MONODY. 

But national hypocrisy, like the fraud of individuals, is always 
punished by a sig'nal Providence. The affectation of sovereignty is 
but the shadow of power ; and while the hundred arms of Briareus 
gave him the reputation of a Giant, yet this would have been but 
an empty proclamation of strength, had he not been inspired with 
the courage to lift even one of his fingers at his enemy. 
"Has toties optata exe^it Gloria pxnas.''' 



NOTE 2. 

"Sublime in terror, and in height serene.'* 

It has been the fate of Sir John Moore, a fate most severely un- 
propitious to the reputation and honour of some administrations of 
the British Cabinet, to be envied, opposed, checked, cramped and 
neglected, fdurante p'otestatej from the first onset of his military 
life. His great talents, dauntless courage, commanding' person, 
practical knowledge, gallant virtues, contempt of selfishness, inac- 
cessability to party, firmness in battle, and generosity to his army, 
and above all, his rapid and comprehensive foresight of the fears 
and the hopes of a jejunely projected expedition, and his own reject- 
ed map of an admirable campaign, which might, in all military and 
geographical calculation, have reduced the invaders of Spain to 
submission or flight, condemned him to the honourable neglect of 
the ministry, whom he despised. But this persecution had been 
practised before, and under the same influence. At the siege of 
Calvi, one of the mountainous, and the bestfortified towns in Corsica, 
and to which the line in the Poem refers, Sir John was eminently 
distinguished. It was the last, and was deemed the impregnable 
strong hold of the Island. From the eminence of its rocks, and 
the danger of its access, it demanded a veteran and a hero in the art 
of war, to assault and reduce it to surrender. This exploit of skill 
and of honour Sir John undertook and performed ; and this intrepid 
and scientifick General's services in Corsica were rewarded by the 
impolitick and calculating ingratitude of an invidious ministry. 



NOTES TO THE MONODY. 239 

NOTE 3. 

"Fled to the mountains, to intrench retreat." 
Rome was built on its own seven hills, which gave security to its 
glory, while its virtue remained. Yet its inhabitants, reared to hab- 
its of legionary discipline, and bold in their contempt of death, had 
not, for near five hundred years, any knowledge, either of the fosse 
and glacis of a city, or of the entrenchment and palisade of a camp. 
When stormed by Brennus, defeated by Pyrrhus, or overwhelmed 
by Hannibal, the citizens of Rome, despairing of its safety, fled 
either to the rock of the Capital, or to the mountains, which sur- 
rounded it. The Romans gained their first knowledge of intrench" 
ment from the conquered camp of the Grecian hero, Pyrrhus. 



PART III. 



ODES AND SONGS. 



31 



ODES AND SONGS. 243 

ODE. 

RISE COLUMBIA. 

Written for, and sung at the first Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
Charitable Fire Society, 1794. 

W HEN first the Sun o'er Ocean glowed, 

And Earth unveiled her virgin breast^ 
Supreme mid Natui'e's vast abode, 

Was heard the Almighty's dread behest : 
Rise, Columbia, brave and free. 
Poise the Globe, and bound the Sea ! 

In darkness wrapped, with fetters chained, 

Will ages grope, debased and blind ; 
With blood the human hand be stained, 

With tyrant power, the human mind. 
Rise, Columbia, &c. 

But, lo, across the Atlantick floods. 

The Star-directed pilgrim sails ! 
See ! felled by Commerce, float thy woods ; 

And, clothed by Ceres, wave thy vales ! 
Rise, Columbia, &c. 

Remote from realms of rival fame. 

Thy bulwark is tliy mound of waves ; 
The Sea, thy birth-right. Thou must claim, 

Or, subject, yield the soil it laves. 

Rise, Columbia, &c. " 



244 ODES AND SONGS. 

Nor yet, though skilled, delight in arms ; 

Peace and, her offspring, arts be thine ; 
The face of Freedom scarce has charms, 

When on her cheeks no dimples shine. 
Rise, Columbia, &c. 

While P'ame for thee, her wreath entwines. 
To bless, thy nobler triumph prove ; 

And, though the eagle haunts thy pines. 
Beneath thy willows shield the dove. 
Rise, Columbia, &c. 

When bolts the flame, or whelms the wave. 
Be thine to rule the wayward hour ! 

Bid Death unbar the watery grave, 

"And Vulcan yield to Neptune's power." 
Rise, Columbia, &c. 

Revered in arms, in peace humane, 
- No shore, nor realm shall bound thy sway j 
While all the virtues own thy reign, 
And subject elements obey ! 

Rise, Columbia, brave and free, 
Bless the Globe, and rule the sea. 



ODES AND SONGS. 245 



ODE. 



ADAMS AND LIBERTY. 

Written for, and sung at the fourth Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
Charitable Fire Society, 1798. 

JL E sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought 
For those rights, vrhich unstained from your Sires have 
descended. 
May you long taste the blessings, your valour has bought, 
And your sons reap the soil, which their fathers defended. 
'Mid the reign of mild Peace, 
May your nation increase. 
With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece ; 
And ne'er may the sons of Columbia be slaves. 
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. 

In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the world, 
Whose shores are mishaken by Europe's commotion, 
The trident of Commei'ce should never be hurled. 
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean. 
But should pirates invade, 
Though in thunder arrayed. 
Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade. 
For ne'er will the sons, &c. 

The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway, 

Had justly ennobled our nation in story, 
'Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day, 

And enveloped the sun of American glor}-. 



246 ODES AND SONGS. 

But let traitoi's be told, 
Who their country have sold, 
And bartered their God for his image in gold, 
That ne'er will the sons, Sec. 

While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood, 

And Society's base threats with wide dissolution ; 
May Peace like the dove, who returned from the flood. 
Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution. 
But though Peace is our aim, 
Yet the boon we disclaim. 
If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice or Faine. 
For ne'er shall the sons, &c. 

'Tis the fire of the flint, each American warms ; 

Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision. 
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms, 
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division. 
While with patriot pride, 
To our laws we're allied, 
No foe can subdue us, no faction divide. 
For ne'er shall the sons, 8cc. 

Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak ; 

Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished ; , 
But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke, 

Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished. 
Should invasion impend, 
Every grove would descend. 
From the hill-tops, they shaded, our shores to defend. 
For ne'er shall the sons, Sec. 



ODES AND SONGS. 247 

Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent womi ; 

Lest our Liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion ; 
Then let clouds thicken round us ; we heed not the storm ; 
Our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion. 
Foes assail us in vain, 
Though their fleets bridge the main. 
For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain, 
For ne'er shall the sons, Sec, 

Should the Tempest of War overshadow our land, 

Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder ; 
For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand. 

And repulse, with his Breast, the assaults of the thunder ! 
His sword, from the sleep 
Of its scabbard would leap. 
And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep I 
For ne'er shall the sons, &c. 

Let Fame to the world sound America's voice ; 

No intrigues can her sons from their government sever ; 
Her pinde is her Adams ; her laws are his choice. 
And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers for ever. 
Then unite heart and hand, 
Like Leonidas' band, 
^nd swear to the God of the ocean and land ; 
That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves. 
While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves- 



248 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written far, and sung' at the fifteenth Anniversary of the Massa- 
chusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1809. 



GRAND RECITATIVE. 

Xjleak lowered the morn ; the howling snow-drift blew ; 

Rude piles of devastation smoked ai'ound ; 

While houseless Outcasts, shivering o'er the ground. 
Bade the sad phantoms of their Homes adieu ; 

AIR. 

Ah ! mouldering wrecks ! ye flit in fearful trance, 

And the vision of frenzy recall. 
When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance, 

From the flames of yon desolate Wall ! 
See, now, with blighting melancholy bare, 

Like the monument stone at a sepulchre placed 

It weeps o'er this ruinous waste, 
As it totters and rocks in the air. 

In vain, sweet pleading Pity calls ; 

Or the cry of shrill Terror appals ; — 
Bending, beetling, crushing o'er the crowded way, 

Hark ! it cracks ! see, it falls ! 
And wretches forget all their griefs in dismay. 

recitative. 
But lo ! along its crumbling base. 
With vacancy's ecstatic pace. 
All-reckless, a heart-broken mourner repair j 



ODES AND SONGS. 249 

Grief has reason beguiled, 
And with melodies wild> 
Invoking her child. 
She wanders like Hope, and bewails like Despair. 

hiVi-^Andante. 
My Boy beneath this ruin lies ! 
Lost William ! hear a Mother's sighs ! 
Through blasts that freeze, and paths that burn. 
Thy tombless dust she comes to urn. 
Now I thy cherub spirit see ! 
It spreads its doating arms to me ! 
It smiles in air ! while piteous grace 
Softens the sorrows of its face. 
Vain was thy Mother's frantick flight 
To snatch thee from the Fiend of Night ! 
Thy Couch, alas ! thy funeral pyre. 
Mid shrieks of horror, sunk in fire ! 

ALLEGRO FURIOSO. 

Now to clouds of purple light, 

Where William sits, I'll steal my flight ! 

Cold is this crazy crust of clay, 

He beckons to a warmer day ! 

Wealth 1 I'm a happier wretch than you, 

And laughing bid the world, Adieu ! 



33 



S^O ODES AND SONGS. 



SONG. 



TO ARMS, COLUMBIA I 



Written for, and sung' at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
Charitable Fire Society. 



Tune — " HE COMES ! he comes 1 

X o arms, to arms, Avhen Honour cries. 
Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise ; 
On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred, 
'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword ! 

To arms, Columbia ! rule thy natal sea, 
United, triumph ; and resolved, be free. 

Columbia's Eagle soars so high, 
He kens the sun with sovereign eye ; 
Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour. 
Nor perches, when the thunders roar. 
To arms, Columbia, Sic. 

Like Glory's dazzling bird of day, 
Our realm should hold imperial sway ; 
Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand. 
Though Faction's earthquake shake tlie land. 
To arms, Columbia, Sec. 



ODES AND SONGg. 231 

Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend, 
Her rubrick banner to defend ? 
Enslave those forests, reared to reign^ 
The future monarchs of the main ? 
. To arms, Columbia, Sec. 

Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun, 
Or Lodi's chief with Washington ? 
Can Earth her maniack moon obey. 
Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway ? 
To arms, Columbia, £cc» 

Revenge ! Revenge ! The flag's unfurled ! 
Let Freedom's cannon wake the world, 
And Ocean gorge on pirates slain, 
'Till Truxton J\relso?iise the main I 
To arms, Columbia, Sec. 

The fate of nations waits the hour, 

Foretold to end the serpent's power ; 

When fallen realms shall break their trance. 

And Adams bruise the head of France. 

To arms, Columbia ! rule thy natal seaj 
United, triumph ; and resolved, be free. 



252 ODES AND SONGS. 



SONG. 

RULE NEW-ENGLAND. 

Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
Charitable Fire Society, May, 1802. 

A'V HAT arm a sinking State can save, 
From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave ? 
Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes, 
Looks round her realm, and thus replies, 

Rule New-England ! New-England rules and saves ! 

Columbians never, never shall be slaves. 

New-England, first in Freedom's Van, 
To toil and bleed for injured man. 
Still true to virtue, dares to say, 
Order is Freedom — Man, obey I 
Rule, &c. 

Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day, 
Our realm in misted error lay, 
pelusion drugged a nation's veins ; 
And Truth was philtered in her chains. 
Rule, &c. 

'Twas now the witching time of night, 
"When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright j 



ODES ANi) SONGS. - 253 



While patriot fiends, with daemon glare, 
Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air ! 
Rule, &c. 

Alone, amid the coil serene, 
New-England stands, and braves the scene, 
Majestic as she lifts her eye. 
The stars appear — the daemons fly. 
Rule, Sec. 

At length the dawn, like that, wliich first 
Upon primeval Chaos burst. 
Athwart our clime its radiance throws. 
And blushes at the wrecks, it shows. 
Rule, &c. 

Old Massachusetts' hundred hills 
Awake andchaunt the matin songj 

A realm's acclaim the welkin fills. 
The federal Sun returns with Strong. 
Rise, &c. 

And thou, pale orb of waning light, 
Democracy, thou changeling Moon, 

Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight, 
Unseen amid the cloudless Noon. 
Rule, &;c. 



254 ODES AND SONGS. 

ODE. 

THE STREET WAS A RUIN. 

Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Chari* 
table Fire Society, June, 1804. 

1 HE Street was a Ruin, and Night's horrid glare 
Illumined with terror the face of Despair ; 

While houseless, bewailing, 

Mute Pity assailing, 
A Mother's wild shrieks pierced the merciless air^ 
Beside her stood Edward, imploring each wind, 
To wake his loved sister, who lingered behind ; 

Awake, my poor Mary, 

Oh ! fly to me, Mary ; 
In the arms of your Edward, a pillow you'll find. 

In vain he called, for now the volum'd smoke, 
Crackling, between the parting rafters broke ; 
Thi'ough the rent seams the forked flames aspire, 
All, all, is lost ; the roof's, the roof's on fire ! 

A flash from the window brought Mary to view, 

She screamed as around her the flaines fiercely blew ; 

Where art thovi, mother ! 

Oh ! fly to me, brother ! 
Ah ! save your poor Mary, who lives but for you ! 

Leave not poor Mary, 

Ah ! save your poor Mary ! 



ODES AND SONGS. 255 



Her visioned form descrying, 

On wings of horror flying, 

The yovith erects his frantick gaze, 

Then plunges in the maddening blaze ! 

Aloft he dauntless soars, 

The flaming room explores ; 
The roof in cinders crushes, 
Through tumbling walls he rushes ! 

She's safe from Fear's alarms ; 

She faints in Edward's arms ! 

Oh ! Nature, such thy triumphs are, 
Thy simplest child can bravely dare. 



256 ODES AND SONGS. 

ODE. 

SPIRIT OF THE VITAL FLAME. 

Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Humane Society^ 
May, 1804. 

./^fr.— ADAGIO. 

O'er the swift-flowing stream, as the tree broke in air, 

Plunged a youth in the tyrannous wave ; 
No ear heard his shriek ; faint with toil and despair, 
X He sunk, and was whelmed in his grave ! 

RECITATIVO. 

See, Humanity's angel alights on the scene ! 
Though the shadows of Death have dissembled his mien ; 
See, his corse is redeemed from the Stream's icy bed, 
And a mother's wild grief shrieks, "Alas ! he is dead I" 

,^ir. LARGO MAESTOSO. 

Spirit of the Vital Flame, 
Touch with life his marble frame, 
From the day-star's radiant choir, 
Bring thy toixh of quenchless fire, 
And bid a mother's hope respire ! 

ALLEGRO. 

Hither, sparkling cherub, fly ! 
Mercy's herald, cleave the sky ! 



ODES AND SONGS. ^S7 



To human prayer, benignant Heaven 
The salient spring of life has given ; 
And Science, while her eye explores 
What power the dormant nerve restores, 
Surveys the Godhead, and adores; 
And him, the first of Glory's clan, 
Proclaims, who saves a fellow man ! 



MAESTOSO. 

Spirit of the Vital Flame ! 
Touch again his marble frame ! 
Bid the quivering nerve return, 
'Till the kindling eye discern 
A mother's tears with rapture burn 



ALLEGRO ASSAI. 

Behold the quickening Spirit raise 

The trembling limb, the wandering gaze ! 

Instinct listens ! Memory wakes ! 

Thought from cold Extinction breaks ; 
Reason, motion, frenzy, fear, 
Religion's triumph, Nature's tear, 
Almighty Power, thy hand is here ! 



258 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written ibv, and sung at the celebration of the Artillery Election, 
June 4, 1797. 

Tune " THE HERO COMES." 

W HEN first the Mitre's wrath to shun, 
Our Grandsires travelled with the sun, 
Columbia's wilds they sought from far, 
And Freedom shone their guiding star. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
Let the Poles proclaim. 
Each illustrious name, 

That crossed the pathless wave. 
Join, ye martial throng. 
Fame's immortal song. 
Bid the chorus roll along. 

Long live the brave. 

In battle brave, in council wise. 
They bade the school of Valour rise. 
Whose pupils awed the astonished world, 
And Freedom's sacred flag unfurled. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion. Fame, 
Let the Poles proclaim, 
Each illustrious name. 

That bade these banners wave. 
Join, See. 



ODES AND SONGS. 259 

While o'er our fields, with havock dyed, 
Bellona rolled her crimsoned tide, 
Like Beauty's lovely goddess rose 
Bright Freedom from our sea of woes. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
Let the Poles proclaim, 
Every hero's name. 

That dared our rights to save. 
Join, Sec. 

Well skilled to guide the helm of state, 

Like Howard good, like Chatham great, 
A chief was ours of deathless fame, 

And Hancock was the godlike name. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion. Fame, * 

Let the Poles proclaim, 
Hancock's glorious name, 

Whose soul disdamed tlie slave. 
Join, Sec. 

Columbia wept ; the Virtues sighed. 
And Freedom mourned when Hancock died ; 

While choirs of seraphs sung on high, 
He's welcome to his native sky. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion. Fame, 
Let the Poles proclainij 
Hancock's deathless name. 

Has triumphed o'er the grave. 
Join, &c. 



260 ODES AND SONGS. 

To arms ! to arms ! when Fi-eedom calls, 
No pang the hero's breast appals ; 

But when the trumpet's clangours cease. 
Let Virtue tune the lute of Peace. 

CHORUS. 

Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
Let the Poles pi'oclaimj 
Freedom's glorious flame 

Shall soon inspire the slave. 
Join, ye martial throng. 
Fame's immortal song, 
Bid the chorus roll along. 

Long live the brave. 



ODES AND SONGS. 261 



SONG. 



THE YEOMEN OF HAMPSHIRE. 



Written for, and sung at the celebration of the Artillery Election, 
June 4, 180L 



Tune — ^" ADAMS and liberty." 

A o the shades of our ancestors loud is the praise, 

That descends with their deeds, and inspires by reaction ! 
To the heirs of their glory the pgsan we raise, 

The " Yeomen of Hampshire," the Victors of Faction ; 
Be theirs the proud tale, 
That though Anarch assail. 
Each ploughman still sings to the Sti'eam of his Vale. 

CHORUS. 

Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou I'an, 
Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 

Where'er thy rich waters erratick display 

Thy deluge of plenty, like Nile, overflooding ; 
The Mind and the Season thy impulse obey, 
And patriot Virtue and Spring are in budding ; 
While each leaf, as it shoots, 
With its promise of fruits. 
Proclaims the thrift moisture, that cultures its roots. 



262 ODES AND SONGS. 

CHORUS. 

Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran, 
Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 

Through the vallies of Hampshire, bright Order's abode, 

Thou lovest in gay circles to range and to wander ; 
While pleased with thy empire, to lengthen the road, 
Thou givest to thy channel another meander ; 
And when on the way. 
Near Northampton you stray. 
How slow moves thy current its homage to pay ! 

CHORUS. 

Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran. 
Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 

Again flow thy stream, as sublimely it rolled, 

In triumph effulgent, from Freedom reflected ; 
On tliat festival day, when Old Anarch was told, 

That his arts had been foiled, and his Foe was elected j 
"When thy bright waves along, 
Reechoed the song. 
To the Christian, the Statesman, the Patriot Strong 5 

CHORUS. 

Whose course loved Connecticut like thine, has ran 
To cultivate Nature, and moralise Man. 



ODES AND SONGS. 263 



MASONICK ODE. 



Written for, and'sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Lodge, 
on the visitation of the Grand Lodge, 1796. 



OwEET Minstrel, who to mortal ears 
Canst tell the Art, which guides the spheres. 

Blest Masonry, all hail ! 
With Nature's birth thy laws began, 
To rule on earth fraternal man. 

And still in Heaven prevail. 

O'er Matter's modes thy mystick sway 
Can fashion Chaos' devious way. 

To Order's lucid maze ; 
Can rear the cloud-assaulting towei', 
And l?id the worm, that breathes its hour, 

Its humble palace raise. 

From nascent life to Being's pride, 
The surest boon thy laws provide 

When wayward fate beguiles : 
The tears, thou shed'st for human woe, 
In falling shine, like Iris' bow, 

And beam an arch of smiles. 



264 ODES AND SONGS. 

Come, priest of Science, truth arrayed, 
And with thee bring each tuneful maid, 

Thou iov'st on Shinar's plain ; 
Revive Creation's primal plan, 
Subdue this vsrildei'ness of man, 

Bid social Virtue reign ! 



ODES AND SONGS. 265 



ODE. 

Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Sons of the Pilgrims^ 
December 22, 1800. 

Tune.—f'^ president's march." 

JSainted shades ! who dared to brave, 

In Freedom's ark, the pathless wave, 

Where, scarcely kenned by lynx-eyed fame, 

No traveller but the Comet came^ 

And driven by Tempest's ravening blast, 

Were wrecked upon our wilds at last ; 

How rose your faith, when through the storm 

Smiled Liberty's celestial form. 

Her lyre to strains of seraphs strung, 

And thus the saci-ed psean sung : 

CHORUS. 

Sons of Glory, patriot band, 
Welcome to my chosen land ! 
To your children leave it free, 
Or a desert let it be. 

Round the consecrated rock, 
Convened the patriarchal flock, 
And there, while every lifted hand 
Affirmed the charter of the land, 
The storm was hushed, and round the zone 
Of Heaven, the mystick meteor shone, 
34 



266 ODES AND SONGS. 

Which, like the rainbow, seen of yore, 
Proclaimed that Slavery's flood was o'er, 
That pilgrim man, so long oppressed, 
Had found his promised place of rest. 
Sons of Glory, &c. 

it'estive honours crown the day, 
With garlands green and votive lay. 
From whose auspicious dawn we trace 
The birth-right of our favoured race, 
Which shall descend from sire to son. 
While seasons roll, and rivers run j 
Till Faction's cankerous tooth devour 
Of fatuate man each virtuous power j 
Till dark intrigue our empire guides. 
And patriot worth no more presides ! 
Sons of Glory, &c. 

Heirs of pilgrims, now renew 
The oath your fathers swore for you, 
When first around the social board, 
Enriched from Nature's frugal hoard, 
The ardent vow to Heaven they breathed, 
To shield the rights their Sires bequeathed 
Manes of Carver ! Standish ! hear ! 
To love the soil, you gave, we swear ; 
And midst the storms of state be true 
To God, our countiy, and to you. 
Sons of Glory, Sec. 



ODES AND SONGS. 26T 



SONG. 



THE GREEN MOUNTAIN FARMER. 



Written in 1798, on Washington's accepting the command of the 
United States army. 



JlJlest on his own paternal farm ; 

Contented, yet acquiring ; 
Below ambition's gilded charm, 

Yet rich beyond desiring ; 
The hill-born rustick, hale and gay, 

Ere prattling swallows sally, 
Or ere the pine-top spies the day, 

Sings cheerly through his valley ; 

CHORUS. 

Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree ! 
Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 

With love and plenty, peace and health, 

Emiched by honest labour, 
He cheers the friend of humbler wealth. 

Nor courts his prouder neighbour. 
At eve, returning home, he meets, 

His nut-brown lass, so loving, 
And still his constant strain repeats. 

Through groves and meadows roving. 



268 ODES AND SONGS. 

CHORUS. 

Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree ! 
Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 

Should Faction's wily Serpent spring 

With treacherous folds to intwine him, 
Undaunted by his venomed sting, 

To flames he would consign him ; 
The hardy yeoman, like the Oak, 

That shades his wood-land border, 
Would baffle Anarch's vengeful stroke, 

And shelter Law and Order. 

CHORUS. 

' Green Mountains' echo, still would be I 
Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 

Should hostile fleets our shores assail, 

By home-bred traitors aided, 
No free-born hand would till the vale. 

By slavery degraded ; 
Each youth would join the patriot brave, 

To die proud Freedom's martyr, 
And shed his latest drop, to save 

His country's Glorious Charter, 

CHORUS. 

Green Mountains' echo then would be, 
Fight on, Fight on for Liberty. 

JQut hark ! the invading foe alarms. 

Responsive cannons rattle ; 
And Washington, again in arms. 

Directs the stoniii of battle, 



ODES AND SONGS. 269 

The locust swarm of Gallick fiends 

He sweeps to mid-way ocean ; 
While fame the vaulted Ether rends, 

With conquest's loud commotion. 

CHORUS. 

Shout! Shout! Columbians, Heaven's decree ; 
'Tis Washington and Victory ! 



270 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Boston i'emale Asy- 
lum, September 24, 1802. 



OHAiL man, stern man, 'gainst Heaven's behest, 

His cold, unfeeling pride oppose ! 
To thankless Wealth unlock his breast, 

Yet freeze his heart to Orphan's woes. 
Weak Casuist ! where yon thunder broke I 

Seest how the livid light'ning glares ! 
Behold ! it rives the knotted oak. 

But still the humble Myrtle spai'es. 

Let stoick valour boldly brave, 

The wars and elements of life ! 
But, more like Heaven, who stoops to save 

A being, sinking in the strife ; 
Poor Exiles ! wandering o'er this sphere, 

Thi'ough scenes, of which you form no part ; 
Loved Orphan girls ! come welcome here, 

The Asylum of the human heart. 

Sweet Charity ! thou spright benign, 

Who oft art seen in Angel form, 
To point the sunbeam, where to shine, 

Or rein the coursers of the storm ! 



ODES AND SONGS. , 271 

Oh ! through yon dark and dripping cell, 
Where Sorrow's out-cast offspring weep, 

Flash, as when Peter's fetters fell, 

And bid the woes, that guard them, sleep ! 

Warmed by thy beams, the frost unkind. 

Which blasts sweet woman's vernal years. 
In dew exhaled, shall leave behind 

Pure Gratitude's unsullied tears ! 
So shall our Orphan girls no more. 

Lament the untimely blight of woe ; 
But reared to virtue, thrice restore 

To generous man the debt, they owe. 

Blest Providence ! whose parent power 

All being gives, for all provides ; 
Co-equal, when it blooms the flower. 

As when it curbs old Ocean's tides ! 
See, lorn and piteous, at thy throne, 

Love, Mercy, Hope and Homage sue ; 
They weep for sorrows, not their own. 

They bend, dear Orphan girls, for you ! 



273 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Indepen- 
dence, July 4, 1806. 



Tune — " WHILST happy in my native land.' 

fT IDE o'er the wilderness of waves, 

Untracked by human peril, 
Our fathers roamed for peaceful graves, 

To deserts dark and sterile. 
No parting pang, no long adieu 

Delayed their gallant daring ; 
With them, their Gods and Country too, 

Their pilgrim keels were bearing. 
All hearts unite the patriot band, 

Be liberty our natal land. 

Their dauntless hearts no meteor led, 

In terrour o'er the ocean ; 
From fortune and from man they fled, 

To Heaven and its devotion. 
Fate cannot bend the high born mind 

To bigot usurpation : 
They, who had left a world behind, 

Now gave that world a nation. 



ODES AND SONGS. 2/3 

The soil to till, to freight the sea, 

By valour's arm protected. 
To plant an empii^e brave and free, 

Their sacred vievrs directed : 
But more they feared, than tyrant's yoke, 

Insidious faction's fury ; 
For oft a worm destroys an oak, 

Whose leaf that worm would bury. 

Thus reared, our giant realm arose. 

And claimed our sovereign charter : 
Her life-blood warm from Adams rose, 

And all her sons from Sftarta. 
Be free, Columbia ! proudest name 

Fame's herald wafts in story : 
Be free, thou youngest child of Fame, 

Rule, brightest heir of Glory 1 

Thy Preble, mid the battle's ire. 

Hath Africk's towers dejected ;• 
And Lybia's sands have flashed with fire, 

From Eaton's sword reflected. 
Thy groves, which erst the hill or plain 

Entrenched from savage plunder. 
To Naiads turned, must cleave the main, 

And sport with Neptune's thunder. 



2T4t ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Inde- 
pendence, July 4, 1810. 



JH.AIL ! Hail, ye patriot spirits ! 

Ye chiefs of valiant deed I 
To war-scarred bosoms point no more, 

Your wounds no longer bleed. 
Oh ! ever bless the festal shrine 

Your hovering shades explore ! 
While laurel-crowned, ye glide around. 

And the Seraph Anthem pour- 
It is our country's natal day, 

We hail it and adore ! 

High o'er the rock of ages, 

See Independence stride. 
Her shield she stretches o'er the vale, 

Her spear across the tide. 
The harvests of her teeniing soil. 

She bids the waves expand, 
Though tempest roars, around her shores, 

It dies along her strand ; 
For the arm, that can the plough direct, 

The trident can command. 



ODES AND SONGS. 275 

The storm, that rent her forests 
A thousand ages past, 

Now sweeps their branches as they fly- 
Along the ocean blast. 

Through every clime her banners float, 
And greet the Northern Wane, 

Where dimly bright, with wheeling light, 
He pales the freezing plain ; 

And sees new Stars beneath the pole, 
New Pleiads on the main. 

The Sea is valour's charter, 

A nation's wealthiest mine : 
His foaming caves when ocean bares. 

Not pearls, but heroes shine ; 
Aloft they mount the midnight surge, 

Where shipwrecked spirits roam. 
And oft the knell, is heard to swell. 

Where bursting billows foam. 
Each storm a race of heroes rears, 

To guard their native home. 

But not the storm, that courses ' 

The mountain and the deep. 
Like Rapine's secret, whirling pool. 

With tyrant, power can sweep : 
Th' Imperial Gulf can whelm the keel. 

Which tempests proudly bore ; 
In smooth serene, it glides unseen. 

Till all its caverns roar ; 
Till all its hidden ledges crash. 

And all its whirlwinds pour. 



276 ODES AND SONGS. 

Rise, man's immortal spirit. 

Stern Independence, rise ; 
Mid wrecks, that choak the pii'ate's cave, 

Your tattered banner lies. 
In fierce Napoleon's midnight cells 

Your gallant sailor grieves ; 
In chains he lies, and wistful sighs 

Towards his country heaves. 
Rise Independence, wear thy crown. 

Or strip its oaken leaver. 



ODES AND SONGS. 277 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Inde- 
pendence, July 4, 1811. 



TunC'—^^ BATTLE OF THE NILE." 

JLjet patriot pride ouv patriot triumph Avake ! 
The Jubilee of Freedom relumes a Nation's soul ! 
On land, or main, no I'ight of realm forsake. 

Though warriour storms, like ocean tempests, roll. 
Spread your banners, let Commerce, Industry directing, 
Mantle the waves, by courage. Wealth protecting ! 

And new honours while we pay 

To our Country's Natal Day, 

Let us build her great renown, 

Fi'om a soil and sea our own ; 
For Commerce, Agricultui'e, Art — rewarded shall be ! 

Huzza 1 Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! 

Heaven gave to Man the Charter to be free. 

Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza I 

Columbia lives, and claims the great decree. 

Arise ! Arise ! Columbia's Sons, Arise ! 
Asscit, on the ocean, your Ocean's sovei-eign law ; 



278 ODES AND SONGS. 

No hostile flag shall hovei- in your skies ; 
No pirate keep your mariners in awe. 
Be the rights of your shores by Cannon Law expounded, 
And your waters shall be safe, where hook and line are sounded. 

On the shoals of Newfoundland, 

Let your tars and boats command, 

For a Mine of wealth you keep 

In the Bank beneath the deep, 
Whose Charter, awful Charter, is renewed by every sea. 

Huzza ! Huzza ! Sec. Sec. Sec. 

If equal justice neutral laws proclaim. 
No power will presumptuous your sovereignty disgrace ; 

Among your Stars inscribe a Nation's name, 
Your flag will guard, our freedom and your race. 
Base submission, inviting indignity and Plunder, 
Like a worm, kills an Oak, which should have braved the 
thunder. 
Though beneath the rifting ball, 
Should the mountain monarch fall. 
Still in majesty he reigns. 
And, though prostrate, rules the plains ; 
And scios, blooming scios, spring, to renovate the tree. 
Huzza ! Huzza ! Sec. kc. Sec, 

Arouse ! Arouse ! Columbia's Sons, Arouse ! 
And burst through the slumber of faction-dreaming fears ; 

Bid Cannons shake the tempests from your brows, 
A.nd the clouds shall echo glory on your ears. 
When the trumpet of Victory, Independence claiming, 
Swelled o'er your hills, from fields in battle flaming ; 



ODES AND SONGS. 279 

When the Freedom of the land, 
By your Patriotick Band, 
To this Temple was consigned, 
'Twas with Washington enshrined, 
That the Charter, sacred Charter, there, immortal should be. 
Huzza ! Huzza ! &c. Sec. &c. 



280 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Faustus Association, 
October 3, 1809. 



Tune — ^" Adams and Liberty." 

On the tent-plains of Shinah, Truth's mystical clime, 

When the impious turret of Babel was shattered, 
Lest the tracks of our race, in the sand-rift of Time, 

Should be buried, when Shem, Ham and Japheth were 
scattered, - 
Rose the genius of Art, 
Man to man to impart, 
By a language, that speaks, through the eye, to the heart. 

CHORUS. 

Yet rude was Invention, when Art she revealed, 

For a block stamped the page, and a tree ploughed the field. 

As Time swept his pennons, Art sighed, as she viewed 

How dim was the image, her emblem reflected ; 
When, inspired, father Faust broke her table of wood. 
Wrought its parts into shape, and the whole reconnected, 
Art with Mmd now could rove, 
For her symbols could move, 
Ever casting new shades, like the leaves of a grove. 



ODES AND SONGS. 281 

CHORUS. 

And the colours of Thought in their elements run, 
As the prismatick glass shows the hues of the Sun. 

In the morn of the West, as the light rolled away 

From the grey eve of regions, by bigotry clouded, 
With the dawn woke our Franklin, and, glancing the day. 
Turned its beams through the mist, with which Art was 
enshrouded ; 

To kindle her shrine, 
His Promethean line 
Drew a spark from the clouds, and made Printing divine ! 

CHORUS. 

When the fire by his rod was attracted from Heaven, 
Its flash by the type, his conductor, was given. 

Ancient Wisdom may boast of the spice and the v,^ed, 

Which embalmed the cold forms of its heroes and sages ; 
But their fame lives alone on the leaf of the reed, 

Which has grown through the clefts in the rums of ages ; 
Could they rise, they would shed, 
Like Cicero's head, 
Tears of blood on the spot, whei'e the world they had led, 

CHORUS. 

Of Pompey and Ceser tinknown is the tomb, 

But the type is their forum, the page is their Rome. 

Blest genius of Type ! down the vista of time 

As thy flight leaves behind thee this vexed generation. 

Oh ! transmit on thy scroll, this bequest from our clime, 
The Press can cement, or dismember a nation. 
36 



282 ODES AND SONGS. 

Be thy temple the mmd I 
There, like Vesta, enshrined, 
Watch and foster the flame, which inspires human kind I 

CHORUS. 

Preserving all arts, may all arts cherish thee ; 
And thy science and virtue teach man to be free 1 



ThefollQV)ing explanatory notice of this Ode is extracted from the Port 
Folio. 

In this Ode, the great stages of the art are poetically described in the three first 
verses; to each of Avhich there is an appropriate chorus. Printing upon 
blocks with immoveable types was invented by the descendants of Noah, "on 
the tent-plains of Shinah," and was nearly coeval -with the first rude assays at 
agi'iculture. But the art remained in this state of imperfection, till "father 
Faust broke her tablet of wood," and invented the moveable type. In succeed- 
ing generations the art received various improvements, prior to the era of 
Franklin, who first united the genius of philosophy to the art of the mechanico 
How would Antiquity " hide her diminished head," could she "burst her 
cearments," and survey the comforts and elegances, which flow from the art 
and science of modern life ? Her heroes and sages would shed 

" Tears of blood on the spot where the world they had led," 
at their limited means of greatness ; but they would with holy aspirations bless 
the " genius of type," which had so widely diffused their glory and so per- 
manently embalmed their fame. 

The concluding verse impresses a salutary lesson, and conveys a noble 
moral. We fervently hope that neither the lesson, nor the moral will pass 
unregarded by the conductors of literary and political Journals ; for they stand 
at the fountains of publick opinion anddu'ect the course of its torrents. 



ODES AND SONGS. 283 



ODE. 



Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the General Eaton Fire 
Society, January 14, 1808. 



Tune—S'^ GOD save th:^ king," 

JjLEST be the sacred fire, 
whose beams the man inspire, 

Panting for praise ! 
Renown her lam'el rears, 
Not in a nation's tears. 
But in the Sun, that cheers 

Her hero's bays. 

In Afric's cells confined, 
Columbia's sons had pined, 

'Mid hopeless glooms 
By native land forgot, 
By fiiend " remembered not," 
They delved their captive spot, 

And hailed their tomb 1 



284 ODES AND SONGS. 

Who, for the brave, could feel ? 
Who warm, with patriot zeal, 

Their country's veins ? 
Eaton, a glorious name ! 
Struck, from the flint of fame, 
A spark, whose chymick flame 

Dissolved their chains. 

O'er Lybia's desert sands. 
He led his venturous bands, 

Hovering to save ; 
Where Fame her wings ne'er spread 
O'er Alexander's head, 
Where Cato bowed and bled 

On glory's gi'ave. 

Though earth no fountain yield, 
Arabs their poignards wield, 

Famine appal ; 
Eaton all danger braves. 
Fierce while the battle I'aves, 
Columbia's Standard waves. 

On Derne's proud wall, 

Long to the brave be givenj 
The best reward of Heaven, 

On earth beneath I 
His country's Spartan pride,. 
To honest fame allied, 
No serpent e're shall glide 

Under his wreath. 



ODES AND SONGS. 285 



Blest be the sacred five, 
Whose beams the man inspire. 

Panting for praise I 
Renown her laurel rears, 
Not in a nation's tears, 
But in the Sun, that cheers 

Her Hero's bays. 



286 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE. 



>Vrltten for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Asso= 
ciatioDj for improvuig the breed of Horses, October 21, 1811. 



yane— " tally ho." 

J. HE Steeds of Apollo, in coursing the day, 

Breathe the fire, which he beams on mankind ; 
To the world wliile his light from his car they convey, 

Their speed is the blaze of his mind. 
Thus Ambition, Avho governs of honour the chace, 

Keeps Life's mettled Coursers in glow ; 
For Fame is the Gaol, and the World is the Race, 

And, hark forward ! they start ! Tally ho ! 

All ranks try the turf; 'tis the contest of life. 

By a heat to achieve a renown ; 
And so thronged are the lists in the emulous strife, 

That but few know what steed is their own ; 
For many, like Gilpin, alarmed at the blood. 

Lose their rein and their course, as they go : 
While the Rider, high trained, knows each pace in his stud, 

And, hark forward ! he flies, Tally ho ! 

The Hero's a War-horse, whose brave, gen'rous breed, 
Scorns the spur, though he yields to the rein ; 

Blood and bone, at the trump-call he vaults in full speed? 
And contends for his own native plain. 



OI)ES AND SONGS. 287 

In battle he glories ; and pants, like his Sire, 

On the soil, where he grazed, to lie low ; 
See his neck clothed with thunder, his mane flaked with fire, 

While, hark forward ! he springs. Tally ho ! 

The Statesman's a Prancer, so tender in hoof, 

He curvets, without fleetness or force ; 
In the heat of the field, when the race is in proof, . 

He gallantly bolts from the course ! 
With his canter and amble, he shuffles his way ; 

And no care of the sport seems to know ; 
Till he sees, as he hovers, what horse wins the day, 

Then, hark forward ! he shouts. Tally ho ! 

The Farmer's a draught, the rich blood of whose veins, 

Acts with vigour the duties, he owes ; 
He's a horse of sound bottom, and nurtures the plains 

Where the harvest, that nuitures him, grows. 
At his Country's command, on her hills or her fields, 

Which her corn and her laurels bestow ; 
Firm in danger he moves,, and in death never yields. 

But, hark forward ! he falls, Tally ho ! 

Columbia is drawn by the Steeds of the sky, 

The long journey of Empire to run ; 
May her coursers of light never scorch as they fly. 

And their race be the age of the Sun ! 
Nor distanced by Time, nor in Fame e'er forgot. 

May her track still be known by its glow ; 
Like Olympian dust, may it stream o'er the spot, 

Where, hark forward ; she rode, Tally ho ! 



288 ODES AND SONGS. 



ODE, 



SPAIN, COMMERCE AND FREEDOM, 



Written for, and sung' at the celebration of the Spanish Festival. 
January 24, 1809. 



OouND the trumpet of Fame ! Swell the Paean again ! 

Religion a war against Tyranny wages : 
From her couch springs, in Armoui', Regenerate Spain, 
Like a Giant, refreshed by the slumber of Ages ! 
From the cell, where she lay, 
She leaps in array. 
Like Ajax, to die in the face of the Day : 

CHORUS. 

And Swears, from pollution, her Empire to save, 
Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 

In the land of her Birth she rejoices to find. 

From her old i^ace of Heroes, a young generation, 
In whose souls no dismay kills the nerve of the mind, 
Who gaze upon Death with devout contenaplation ; 
"Whose Standard on high, 
Like a Comet, will fly ; 
And consume, while it lightens, its neighbouring sky ! 



ODES AND SONGS. 289 



CHORUS. 

They have sworn from pollution her Empire to save, 
Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 



O'er her hills, see the Day-Star of Glory advance ! 

Its beams warm her cliffs, and unfetter her fountains ! 
But, a pestilent Planet, it blazes on France ! 
A Meteor of blood, through the mist of the Mountains I 
Like a Dream in the Air, 
See, the Pyrennees glare ! 
A Castle of Fire, on a Rock, blear and bare ! 

CHORUS. 

Its flames from pollution her Empire shall save, 
Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave I 

Brave Isle of the Oak ! On thy Patriarch Tree, 

Science blossoms, where Freedom her shelter has taken ! 
Earth was weighed by an Acron 1 and ruled is the Sea ! 
What thy Newton had balanced, thy Nelson has shaken ! 
Trident Queen may'st thou reign, 
'Till thy thunder regain 
The rights of Mankind, in the battles of Spain ! 

CHORUS. 

'Till her Sword from pollution her Empire shall save, 
Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 

Thy Shield, gallant Britain ! impends from the sky. 
Like the Star in the East, on the Morn of Salvation ! 

Through the dark Empyrean it bursts on the eye, 
The Beacon of Man, in the march of Creation ! 



ago , ODES AND SONGS. 

In the World's sacred War, 
Agincourt, Trafalgar 
Thy Steeds deck with laurels, and herald thy Car ! 

CHORUS. 

For with Spain thou hast sworn from pollution to save. 
Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave I 

Dear, Natal Columbia ! Fair Last-born of Time ! 

May the Orphan of Fame be the Heir of Dominion ; 
But, the Nest of thy Eagle looks Bleak, though Sublime, 
On a Cliff, where each Tempest can shatter his pinion S. 
Round an Aerie so high; 
The rude Avhirlwinds will fly, 
Unless, with thy Forests, the blast thou Defy I 

CHORUS. 

And swear from pollution like Spain, thou wilt savfe, 
Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave I 

Oh ! to Spain, let thy Gratitude redolent burn. 

First, thy Freedom to own ; First, thy Shores to discover I 
Hark ! her Patriots, with pride, tell the Tyrant they spurn. 
That the New World she found, and the Old will recover / 
For Commerce and Thee ! 
She unbosomed the Sea, 
And demands that the Gates of the Ocean be Free ! 

CHORUS. 

Then, swear from pollution like Spain, Thou wilt save, 
Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave ! 

Bright Day of the World ! dart thy lustre afar ! 

Five the North with thy heat ! gild the South with thy 
splendor ! 



ODES AND SONGS. 291 

With thjr glance light the Torch of Redintegrant War, 
Till the dismembered Earth effervesce and regender ! 

Through each zone may'st roll, 

*Till thy beams at the Pole, 
Melt Philosophy's Ice in the Sea of the Soul I 

CHORUS. 

'Till Mankind from pollution their birth-right shall save s 
Their Flag and their Altars, their Home and their Grave. 

Hail ! Spirit of Spain ! mount thy Battlement-walls ! 

With thy voice shake the clouds ! break the dream of sub^ 
jection ! 
Like a new-risen Spectre, thy Helmet appals ! 
And Pavia Recoils at thy Dread Resurrection ! 
Oh ! may France, the new Rome, 
Never destine thy doom, 
'Till the Pyrennees sink, and thy realm is a Tomb 1 

CHORUS. 

Rise I and swear from pollution thy Empire to save ! 
Let thy Flag and thy Home be thy God and thy Grave S 



292 ELEGY. 



ELEGIAC SONNET, 

INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY Of 

M. M. HAYS, Esq. 

JlIere sleepest thou, Man of Soul 1 Thy spirit flown, 

How dark and tenantless its desert clay ! 
Cold is that heart, which throbbed at sorrows moan ? 

Untuned that tongue, which charmed the social day ? 

Where now the Wit, by generous roughness graced ? 

Or Friendship's accent, kindling as it fell ? 
Or Bounty's stealing foot, whose step untraced 

Had watched pale Want, and stored her famished cell ? 

Alas, 'tis all thou art ! whose vigorous mind 
Inspiring force to Truth and Feeling gave. 

Whose rich resources equal power combined, 
The gay to brighten, and instruct the grave I 

Farewell, Adieu ! Sweet Peace thy vigils keep ; 
For Pilgrim Virtvie sojourns here to weep ! 



ADDRESS. 293 



ADDRESS, 

Written for the Carriers of the Boston Gazette, January 1, 1802. 

Again the Sun his fiery steeds has driven, 

To melt Avith day the clouds of nether heaven. 

T' Antarctic skies he shoots his torrid beams. 

And bids the Naiads bathe in polar streams ; 

On diamond hills of ice, unsunned before, 

He points his focus, and new oceans roar ; 

The vast suffusion gushes down the sides 

Of mother earth, and gives St. Pierre his tides ; 

While floating Glaciers gem the torrent's way. 

Exult in light, and, as they shine, decay. 

Nations, from under ground, pop out their heads. 

To hail the spiral moniing as it spreads ; 

And gaze with wonder, (poor benighted souls !) 

On that bright orb, which Candles gives and Coals. 

Each Nymph, with furs thrown off, her face discloses. 

To breathe an air that does not bite off noses ; 

And leaves a six -month's fire, to gather roses ! 

While nature, all alive, with Spring bedight. 

Peals her hosannas to the Power of Light. 

But while the joys of polar realms and tribes. 
The newsboy with red-lettered rhyme describes, 
'Tis fit, though bards and beggars love to roam, 
To shoot a distich at great folks at home. 



294 ADDRESS. 

And here, alas, with aching heart and sad, 
His Pegasus must needs become a Pad ; 
For sure the Muse should shuffle in her gait, 
When nought but thorough pacing suits the State. 

Who to the clime his pliant habit forms, 
Has boots for mire, and roquelaures for storms J 
But the news-pedlar, bold as man of rhymes. 
Will face the whirlwind, and will cuff the times ! 

Unlike the scene, which erewhile cheered the soul, 
But which we left behind us at the pole. 
Is this drear season, which, of life bereft. 
Gives up to Bankruptcy, what Anarch left. 
Cold to the patriot's heart, and newsboy's knuckles. 
Misfortune on our backs it doubly buckles ; 
In trade's great toe it sticks a festering splinter^ 
And gives us peace, democracy and winter ; 
Threatens a frost, to freeze our current cash, 
To snap our crockery, our credit sinash ; 
With banded hordes it fills our publick roads. 
Our smoaking streets with prostate mansions loads ; 
Frost-nips the banks, internal taxes clips. 
Makes carpenters of worms, to bore our ships ; 
From emigration takes off all its shackles, 
And a Swiss Dray-horse in state-harness tackles ; 
Capacity it gives to every rogue. 
And finds certificate of birth in — ^brogue ; 
Distinction levels, all allegiance blends. 
And whisky cits, from bogs, to congress sends ; 
All strangers naturalizes — all embraces. 
With no exception, but the hue of faces ; 



ADDRESS. 295 

Felons from Newgate 'scaped, and vermined straw, 

To rail at feather-beds, and common law ; 

Fools with long ears, who bray, when Patriots bawl, 

Or knaves transported-^with no ears at all. 

But while to vagrant tribes our laws are kind, 

The sable sans'culottes no mercy find ; 

Alas ! how moral, how humane, the times, 

When Pliilosophs compile a code of crimes I 

A deadly sin the Negro's breast imbues, 

He loves the female, more than Mammoth does ; 

And viler still to him, whose pointer nose 

Smells not a poppy, as it smells a rose ; 

The Negro, formed a slave from Nature's hands, 

*' Sweats more at pores, and less secretes at glands." 

Sad and reversed, as this drear scene appears. 
There are, who batten on a Patriot's tears ; 
But still on them the same privations fall, 
The Sun's a common good, and cheers us all ; 
And when on other realms, and distant skies, 
He showers that radiance, he to us denies. 
The " eager and the biting air" we feel, 
May chill the limbs, but nerves the heart with steel, 
For poor in soul is he, who calm can view 
That plastic orb, which erst, to order true, 
Th' Ecliptic path in equal course did run. 
And shone the civil, like the natural sun. 
Now o'er our dark horizon's ridge incline 
A watery lustre, and a sloping line ; 
Beyond th' Equator keep his rolling throne. 
And in the southern solstice shine alone ! 



296 TO MISS F. 



The following lines appeared In the Centinel, February, 1793. 
They were sent to a beautiful young lady, on hearing her 
express a wish to ascend in Blanchard's Balloon. 



TO MISS F. 

h ORBEAR, sweet gh'l ; your scheme forego, 
And thus our anxious troubles end : 

That you will mount, full well we know, 
But greatly fear you'll not descend. 

When Angels see a mortal rise, 

So beautiful, divine and fair, 
They'll not dismiss you from the skies. 

But keep their sister Angel there. 



To the above, Mr. Paine soon after wrote the following reply. 

X RUE, gentle bard, should lovely Grace 

On aeronautick pinions I'ise, 
Angels would own their " Sister's" face, 

Thrice welcome to her native skies. 

But conscious should the nymph remain, 
Earth's loud laments would rend their ears : 

They'd send the Heroine down again. 
To sooth and bless a world in tears. 



PART IV. 



PROSE WRITINGS. 



AN 



ORATION, 



WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE YOUNG MEN OP BOSTON, 
AND DELIVERED, JULY 17, 1799, 

IN COMMEMOEATION OF THE 
DISSOLUTION OF 

THE TREATIES AND CONSULAR CONVENTION, 

BETWEEN FRANCE AND THE UNITED STATES 
OF AMERICA. 



ORATION. 

J. HE Struggle between Liberty and Despotism, Government 
and Anarchy, Religion and Atheism, has been gloriously de- 
cided. It has proved the victory of principle, the triumph of 
virtue. France has been foiled, and America is free. The 
elastick veil of Gallick perfidy has been rent ; the mystick 
charm of diplomatick policy has been dissolved ; the severing 
blow has been struck ; and the exulting Ocean, now rolls be- 
tween our shores, an eternal monument of our separation. 

We are convened, my young friends and fellow citizens, to 
commemorate, at a disjunct period, the first glorious anniver- 
sary of that eventful day,* when our national Senate and 
House of Representatives declared the Treaties and Consular 
Convention, which had hitherto subsisted between the United 
States and France, should be no longer obligatory on the Gov- 
ernment and People of America, It is a day, which will for- 

* The law of the United States, dissolving the Treaties and 
Consular Convention with France, was approved by the President on 
the 7th of July, 1/98. From the vicinity of this day to our National 
Anniversary, and other causes, this event was celebrated on the 
17th. This anachronism is not only venial in itself, but is also 
sanctioned by undeniable precedent. 



3Q2 ORATION. 

ever be illustrious in our annals. It is the completion of our 
Liberties, the acme of our Independence. The fourth of 
JULY will be celebrated by our latest posterity, as the splendid 
sera of our national gloiy ; but the seventh will be venerated, 
as the dignified epoch of our national character. The one, 
annihilated our colonial submission to a powerful, avowed and 
determined foe. The other, emancipated us from the oppres- 
sive friendship of an ambitious, malignant, treacherous ally. 
The foraier asserted our political supremacy, which preserved 
to us our country from subj ection, our liberties from encroach- 
ment, and our government from foreign control : the latter 
united to tlie same momentous object a declaration of our 
moral sovreignty, which rescued our principles from subju- 
gation, as well as our persons from slavery ; which secured 
our cities from massacre, as well as their inhabitants from 
debasement ; which preserved our fair ones from violation, 
as well as our religion from bondage. In fine, the declaration 
of Independence, which dissolved our connexion with Great 
Britam, may be correctly denominated the Birth day of our 
nation, when, as its infant genius was ushered into political 
existence, a lambent flame of glory played around its brows, 
in presage of its future greatness. But the period, which 
sundered our alliance with France, may be pronounced the 
day of our nation's manhood, when this genius had become 
an Hercules, who, no longer amused with the coral and bells 
of " liberty and equality ;" no longer 

" Pleased with the rattles, tickled with the straws," 



ORATION. 303 

of " health and fraternity ;" no longer willing to trifle at the 
distaff of a " Lady Negociator," boldly invested himself in 
the toga virilisj and assumed his rank in the forum of nations. 
It will therefore in all ages be pointed to, _as a luminous 
page in our history, when the patriotick statesmen of Amer- 
ica, with a decision of character, which has shot a ray of enthu- 
siasm into the coldest regions of Europe, cut asiuider the 
inexplicable knot of so contagious a connexion, and forever 
abolished the impolitick and deleterious instrument which had 
created it : when that memorable Treaty, which had linked 
together two heterogeneous nations, in an unnatural, unequal, 
and hateful alliance, after an attenuated life of twenty years, was 
ignominiously committed to the grave, where, in the lan- 
guage of French philosophy, " its death will prove an eternal 
sleep." 

That this was a measure of the highest prudence, foresight 
and necessity, has been acknowledged by every honest Amer- 
ican, whose political intelligence has flowed through any other 
channel, than the'polluted sewers of a French Consul's Office, 
The history of the events, which compelled the dissolution of 
our national intercourse with France, is a history, on the one 
part, of injury accumulated on injury, aggravated by insult 
following upon insult ; and on the other, of the dignified policy, 
which preferred negociation to arms, and a magnanimous 
forbearance to resent or retaliate, while there remained one 
rational, one manly hope of an honourable accommodation. 



304 ORATION. 

The crisis soon arrived, when to be silent was to submit; to 
submit was to be vandalized. 

France had formed a digest of piracy, in which plunder, 
imprisonment and massacre were some of the milder penal- 
ties, denounced by the Great Nation. Their most unprinci- 
pled and abandoned citizens, who had nothing to lose, but a 
life, which was a burthen to themselves, and of no value to 
their country, swarmed the ocean in predatory hordes, under 
the seal of the republick, and the sanction of her palm-itching 
ministers. Our commerce was at this period the carrier of 
the world. For five years preceding, it had extended in a 
]"atio of increase, unparalleled but by geometrical progression. 
So unexampled in any former time was its pi'osperity and its 
wealth, that our navigation almost monopolized the whole 
burthen of taxation. Its revenues supplied the exigencies of 
our government, and its peaceful and respected flag had made 
the harvests of all climes our own. 

At this most critical period of the present contest in Europe, 
when the combined armies and fleets had established a 
Pofiilian circle round the territories of the French Republick, 
so portentously gloomy and eventful was the aspect of her 
revolution, that had not the ofiicious friendship of Americans, 
with the exuberant productions of their fertile fields, lavishly 
freighted every plant, that was afloat in their seas, to snatch 
from famine the myrmidons of Robespierre, and to pamper 
with luxury the pimps of Marat, our humiliated government 



ORATION. 305 

liad not since been compelled to sue for justice from the 
treacherous tyrants, they had preserved, nor meanly stooped 
" To lick the hand, just raised to shed its blood." 
For national favours, so immediately instrumental in the 
salvation of their republick, what novel and brilliant system 
of compensation did these eloquent theorists, who are eter- 
nally preaching on the purity of the social contract, invent and 
adopt, to express the ardent gratitude, which, consumed them, 
and exonerate the mountainous load of obligation, which 
depressed their modest sensibility ? Was it by an honoura- 
ble mention in the bulletin ? The union of the flags of the 
two republicks in the hall of the Convention ? Or the friendly 
care, they bestowed, to initiate the un-illuminated mind of our 
consul Munroe in the true principles of Religion and Gov- 
ernment ? — No.— -These were supererogatory benefits, gi'a- 
,tuitously conferred ! Frenchinen were more nobly actuated ! 
They kindly condescended, for our exclusive profit, to place 
our defenceless Commerce under their fraternal protection, 
lest our property should be seized and confiscated by British 
free-booters ! They converted our vessels to the use of the 
Republick, lest they should be sunk and destroyed by British 
cannon ! They stored our cargoes in their National Granaries, 
lest we should trust them to British merchants, and be 
defrauded of our payment ! And they have beaten and impris- 
oned our Seamen, and murdered our Smiths and our Brad^ 
lees,* lest they should fall into the hands of British buccaniers! 

* Captain Eben. Smith and Mr. David Bradlee, of the ship Hunter, 
bound to Martinique, who were slain in an action with a French Pri- 
39 



306 ORATIO^^ 

Disinterested generosity of a wonderful people I It is worthy 
of Frenchmen ! 

Such was the tender affection of our dear " Sister repub- 
lick !" France was as fair, and as false, as the beautiful statue 
of the tyrant Nabis. Her syren charms, though more baleful 
than the wrinkles of the weird sisters, wore the celestial sem- 
blance of truth and innocence. Her smiles allured us to her 
fond embrace. We rushed into her arms, and in her treach- 
erous fold, felt the keen daggei^ in her breast concealed, 
pierce to our heart.* Yes, my fellow citizens, America has 
nearly been suffocated in the extatick raptures of the " hug 
fraternal !" 

From a mistaken notion of the principles of France in the 
assistance, she afforded our revolutipnary struggle, have flowed 
many of the evils and indignities, with which our country has 
been assailed and corroded. Deluded by a fictitious gratitude, 
an almost fatal misconception of the French character had 
hitherto pervaded the minds of our citizens. The description, 
which one of their greatest philosophers and statesmen has 
given of his countrymen, was considered as illusory, as his 

vateer. The gallant Smith was inhumanly gashed with wounds after 
his vessel had sui-rendered ; .-ind Mr. Bradlee was assassinated 
piecemeal, and thrown over board. When will our national debt of 
"gratitude" to France be discharged ! 

* The tyrant Nabis, when any of his rebellious subjects refused to 
loan liim the sum of money, he demanded, ordered them to embrace 
liis Apega, which was the statue of a beautiful woman, moving by 
invisible mechanism, with a dagger concealed in the vestments that 
ornamented her bosom. 



ORATION. 207 

theological writings. But the late luminous developement of 
their moral and political levity and turpitude has established 
in America the celebrated opinion, that the national character 
of France is an amalgamation of the two most opposite quali- 
ties in the composition of human nature ; the artful ferocity 
of the Tyger, and the thoughtless frivolity of the Ape. From 
the barbarous reign of Clovis, when the skull-bone of an enemy 
was used as the festal goblet at the banquet of victory, to the 
silken empire of Madame Tallien, whose Idalian palace is 
decorated with the pictures and statues of Italy, the French 
nation have been successively occupied in giving fashions to 
Europe, or in deluging it with blood. Paris, as these contra- 
rient propensities have predominated, has been alternately the 
toy-shop of folly, the divan of conspiracy, or the charnel-house 
of massacre. The French Republick has exhibited all the 
vices of civilization, without one of the virtues of barbarism. 
It is true that France, at some periods of her history, has been 
considered an amiable nation. But these po&hed intervals 
have seldom occurred, but as the ominous precursors of new 
political convulsions. They have resembled the awful pause, 
that predicts the ravages of the hurricane, the horrible silence, 
that preludes the eruption of a volcano. 

Political Empiricism has never attained, in any age or 
nation, so universal an ascendency, as at the present day in 
the " Illuminated Republick." Unfettered by the fear of 
innovation, and unshackled by the prejudice of ages, the mod- 
ern Frenchman is educated in a system of moral and religious 
chimeras, which dazzle by their novelty those volatile intel- 



308 ORATION. 

lects, which prescriptive wisdom could never impress with 
. veneration. Every Frenchman, who has read a little, is a 
pedant ; and the whole race of these hom-book Philosophers 
is content with the atheism of Mirabeau, the historick pages 
of RoUin and Plutarch, the absurd philanthropy of Condorcet, 
and the visionary politics of Rosseau.* These are the boun- 
daries of their literary ambition, of their political science. 
Hence it is, that they pretend to be too enlightened for belief, 
too virtuous for government. Hence too it is, that their 
courts of jurisprudence are but a solemn mockery of justice. 
In its present state of corruption, the French trial by jury is 
more preposterously barbarous, than the Gothick decision by 
camp-fight, and more venal and precarious, than the verdict 
of an Inquisition. Professing to discard every religious obli- 
gation, it is the first creed of republican France, that there is no 
God ; and the sanctity of an oath is held in equal solemnity by 
a French Juryman, with the truth of a sonnet to his mistress's 
eye-brow by a French Poet ! By annihilating the sacred 
source of justice, the common assurances of liberty must be 
subverted and destroyed ; and, in this universal dilapidation 
of principle, the institutes of Justinian will share the same 
fate with the papal decrees of Gregory, or the municipal polity 
of Alfred, The protecting arm of the law has been pai'alized 
by the leporous poisons of vice and infidelity ; and life, liberty 
and property, the imprescriptible rights of every one, are now 
reduced, by these disinterested disciples of equality, to a mei-e 

* See " Residence in France," described in a series of Letters 
from an English Lady ; prepared for the press by John GiflTord, Esq. 



©RATION. 309 

lubricous dependance on the will of the Directory. The sub- 
stance of these alienable privileges has been refined to a 
vapor ; and the splendid evanescence , that remains, is nothing 
but the air-bloAvn bubble of the school-boy, whose tenuous 
essence has scarce weight enough to gravitate, or density to 
rarify, and vnW vanish in a sun-beam, or dissolve at the touch. 
The cabinet of the Luxembourgh, having thus introduced 
and effectuated a scheme of national demoralization, have 
removed the strongest barrier, that could be opposed to the 
accomplishment of their ambitious designs, a military despo- 
tism. The impracticable system of a permanent oligarchy 
©an never have been the uniform consummation, to which 
these modern Cromwells have aspired. The essence of all 
their plans is to consolidate in the executive all the powers of 
the government, by reducing the popular branches to such 
sequacious docility, that, like the States General under the Mon- 
archy, they may be convened and dismissed at the beck of an 
arbitrary master. " Every one," says Mallet du Pan, " who 
has aspired to the administration of the revolution, has been 
labouring only to force open for himself the door of wealth 
and power, and then to shut it after him." This has been the 
continued tissue of their policy from the Philosophers of '89 
to the Tyrants of '98. From the martyrdom of their Monarch 
to the dethronement of their God ! And, from the present 
^ apparent solution of this political riddle, it is highly probable, 
that the French nation, after having been successively deluded 
by the splendid follies, the magnificent crimes, and fascinating 
theories, with which their revolution has been disgracefully 



310 ORATION. 

embellished, will at last return to their original servitude, with 
the loss of their former morals, the stain of accumulated bar- 
barism, and the corrosive reflection of having deserved every 
misery, they endure. 

While this aspiring project of concentrating the publick 
authority has been generating and maturing in the council- 
chamber of the Directory, and v^^aiting only a propitious junc- 
tion for its establishment, the more ambitious scheme of 
universal dominion,* w^hich has for ages descended, like an 
heirloom, with the royal palace of France has been revived 
by these thrifty speculators in human misery, with an enthu- 
siasm, that would charactei'ize the madman of Sweden ; has 
been prosecuted with more fantastick ferocity, than formerly 
desolated tlie plains of Palestine ; and has been rendered more 
illustrious by its heroes and its achievements, than the hitherto 
unparallelled glory of chivalry, the Siege of Candia. The 
pageantry of its victories concealed the subtle policy, which 
had secured them. The ludicrous doctrine of a moral, physi- 

* In a late celebrated " Historical Essay on the Ambition and 
conquests of France," printed in London, 1797, the American politi- 
cian will find it satisfactorily demonstrated, that the boundaries, to 
which the republican rules of France are aiming to extend her domin- 
ion, are the same, which her monarchs have for three hundred years 
been struggling' to obtain. The same ruinous ambition, which char- 
acterizes the present French ministers, is incontestibly proved to 
have existed in the time of Richelieu, and is perspicuously traced 
" through the wearisome reigns of Louis the superb, Louis the liber- 
tine, and Louis the insincere, to the present Louisless form of 
government." 



ORATIOK. 311 

cal and personal equality and the fanatical plan of universal 
liberty were the most captivating allurements, to enlist the 
prejudices of the people under the crusading banners of Insur- 
rection* This political fruit of temptation, like the apple 
from the tree of knowledge, could not be withstood by the 
curiosity of mankmd. It was so artfully pi-esented, it bloomed 
so deliciously fair, and looked so invitingly innocent, that 
surely there could be no haraa in a taste ! But, to the 
' untempted gaze of the distant spectator, to the analyzing eye 
of the real philosopher this stupendous doctrine of confusion 
assumed a potentous and alarming aspect. Terrible in its 
splendour, it seemed, like the comet approaching its perihelion, 
in so elliptical a path, that its flaming progress must impinge 
on every orbit in our system, ere it could complete the tour 
of its destination, and return into the regions of Chaos. 

The great foundations of those European governments, 
which have been enslaved by Republican liberty, were loos- 
ened and undermined by the torrent of French principles, 
before the attack upon their out-works was commenced by 
the French artillery. Their bulwarks were tottering to their 
fall, before these illuminated Knights-errant approached the 
battlements to conqvier the people into freedom ! By opening 
the wall of allegiance, the fatal breach was made, through 
which the wooden horse was to be inducted ; and to the folly 
of popular superstition were alike destined to be sacrificed 
the humble dwellmgs of the credulous multitude, the splen- 
did palaces of the nobles, and the venerable temples of the 
Deity. 



$M ORATION. 

The all-devouring republick has neither spared the imbe^ 
cillity of the weak, nor respected the sanctity of the sacred. 
Not content with the succumbing pliability of Spain, the coerced 
neutrality of Prussia, and the trophied wrecks and servile 
prostration of Italy, her carnivorous appetite has pampered 
its gluttony on the temporalities of unoffending bishops, the 
charters of free cities, and the feeblest electorates and duke- 
doms, from whose enmity she had nothing to fear, from whose 
plunder she had little to gain. Her only attributes have been 
intrigue and voracity ; she has been ingenious only to corrupt, 
and valiant only to destroy i 

Wherever the revolutionary mania has prevailed, confusion 
and conspiracy have been the symptoms of the disease, and 
misery and massacre its crisis. Holland was bit by the French 
tarantula, and nothing could cure the wound but French 
music. No other remedy would do ; and for six years, she 
has been dancing round a Pike-staff to the tune of Ca Ira, 
till her treasury is exhausted by the expenses of the piper ! 

The once fertile and flourishing pi-ovinces of Belgium 
have been incorporated, plundered and depopulated. Their 
fire-sides have been polluted by the debaucheries of French- 
men ; their dykes have been filled with the bodies of their 
fellow-citizens. 

Venice, the eldest sister in the family of modern republicks, 
after being embraced by the " Terrible People," has been 
sent to market, like a Circassian beauty, tricked out in her 
gaudiest attire, and sold for the household service of the 
Emperor. 



ORATIO>f. SI 3 

Geneva was once the bee-hive of Europe. Active, harmo* 
nious and skilful, it was th6 most industrious, the most inge-= 
nious, the happiest of nations, till its crude, unpolished, 
antiquated notions of liberty were alchymised in the all-dis- 
solving crucible of French Philosophy. Art, genius, industry, 
vanished in the subtlety of the experiment ; and Geneva now 
exists only on the map of the geographer. 

The inhabitants of Switzerland, whose unconquei'able fore- 
fathers had resisted and repelled the concentrated forces of 
Austria, for five hundred years enjoyed as pure a system of 
liberty, as could subsist in the pastoral state of mankind. But, 
alas ! these honest and gallant Helvetians, who had been the 
faithfuj allies of France above a century and a half, have also 
been entangled in the fate-woven toils of her friendship. Their 
hereditary love of democracy was fevered to infatuation by the 
modern refinenaent of " rights and liberties ;" and, in the 
poignant experience of these blessings, they are now writhing 
under the disastrous infliction of the right to groan, the liberty 
to starve ! They had only to unite and to conquer, but they 
have been divided and enslaved. Tbey could find no protec- 
tion in the rugged height of their mountains, no shelter in the 
happy humbleness of their vallies. Their persevering bene- 
factors pursued their victims above the clouds, and deluged 
their meadows with the blood of their cultivators. But, trem- 
ble Frenchmen ! The Swiss will not live to be slaves ; and 
though your pestilent alliance is as palsying as the touch of 
the Torpedo, they will struggle for their lost independences 
40 



314. ORATION. 

while one of their descendants remains unbutchered by your 
fraternal benevolence. Yes ! the shade of Tell has already 
risen from his grave ; and the spirit of Liberty, terrible in 
arms, again stalks on the blood-crimsoned tops of the Glaciers. 
That the same gigantick principle of domination, which has 
impelled France to the mad enterprise of subduing and bar- 
barizing Europe, has invariably controled her conduct to our 
own country, is a truth, as irrefragable, as it is momentous. 
From the first signing of the treaty of alliance, whose dissolu- 
tion we this day celebrate, the ministry of Versailles had con- 
ceived this iniquitous project. To check the pride of an 
inveterate rival, they generously condescended to assist our 
infant republick in its struggle with an overweening step- 
mother ; in the hope, that the froward child, overwhelmed 
with a sense of gratitude, would leap into the arms of its disin- 
terested benefactors ; or, if its obstinate principles of indepen- 
dence should remain unshaken, that, deprived of the nurturing 
pov/er, and exposed to the systematick resentment of Great 
Britain, it would soon be compelled to receive the protection 
of Frenchmen on their own terms, and fall an easy prey to 
their arts and their arms, their gold and their gun-powder. 
When the treaty of peace was in negociation,anew outline of 
the same elaborate system was betrayed. By the fiend-like 
hypocrisy, and collusive machinations of the French Minister, 
the whole navigation of the Mississippi, from its sources to the 
ocean, with an immense tract of the most valuable contiguous 
country, were to be ceded to Spain ; and the American right 



ORATION. 315 

in the fisheries of Newfoundland, an inexhaustible mine of 
commerce, from which our enterprising citizens might enrich 
the coffers and strengthen the nerves of our government, was 
to be sacrificed to Great Britain.* The calculating cabinet 
of France readily suggested and countenanced these degrad- 
ing propositions ; because it well knew, that to environ the 
two extremes of our territory with the colonies of European 
powers, whom she could at any time render hostile to our 
interests, was one great stride towards reducing us to a state 
of dependence on her bountiful aid ; and because it cleai^ly 
foresaw, that our extended line of sea-coast would soon need 
a naval defence, and that the fisheries, if left in our power, 
would be the nurseries of our seamen, the hardiest race of 
our inhabitants, who have nov/ become the avenging protect- 
ors of their country, and the ocean that laves it. But with 
such specious plausibility was this pregnant measure conduct- 
ed, that even the acute judgment of a Franklin, whose eleva- 
ted mind could behold the thunder-cloud in its ignition, as a 
subject of philosophical experiment, was duped and deluded 
by the Gobelin tapestry, which concealed the mighty mischief; 
and America, at this day, is indebted, for these important 
branches of her national commerce and aggrandizement, to 

* Great Britain, our inveterate oppressor, from whom we had 
revolted, w^as willing- to acknowledge our right in the fisheries ; but 
France, our trusty ally, was opposed to it ! Count A^ergennes even 
yeproached Mr, FItzherbert for the passive surrender. 



316 ORATION. 

the firmness and wisdom of that enlightened patriot, the cal. 
umniated Jay ; and to the penetrating policy, and inflexible 
decision of that virtuous and unrivalled Statesman, who has 
now rendered his countrymen as happy and as glorious by his 
administration, as he had before made his country immortal by 
Ms talents. 

To detail the progress of this ravenous ambition, by which 
France has been actuated in her designs on the Government 
and People of America, since the convulsions of Europe have 
given ampler scope to her diplomatick dexterity, would be 
but to repeat the voluminous history of her unblushing perfi- 
dies, and the melancholy record of our national degradation. 
Who does not remember the letter to Mazzei, or the arrival 
of Genet ? Who has forgotten that dubious sera in our history, 
when illuminated fraternities were scattered, like the pestife- 
rious effluvia of the poison-tree of Java, from Altamaha to St. 
Croix ? When anarchy and disorganization were the order 
of the day, and French consuls, and French assignats the order 
of the night ? When our " civick feasts" were introduced to 
celebrate French victories, and our " water-melon frolicks" 
to disseminate French principles ? When political infidelity 
was a paramount title to the suffrages of the people ? When 
Foreign Influence, like the golden calf, seduced multitudes 
from the worship of true liberty ? When our government 
Stood trembling on the crater of revolution, whose combustible 
materials were kindling for its destruction ? Who does not 
recollect that disastrous juncture, when the epidemy of atheism 



OR\TfOisr, 317 

and anarchy was so fatally virulent, that though some few of 
the leaders of the faction had been regularly innoculated by 
French Mountebanks, more than half of the people of America 
had taken it in the natural way ? To check this dstemper, 
the depleting medicine of Reason was an abortive prescrip- 
tion : You might as well attempt to restore a lunatick to his 
senses by a decoction of poppies, or to cure the pestilence of 
Smyrna by the panaceous elixir of Don Quixote. 

At one period, so rapid and extensive was, the current of 
these republican ethicks, that the terrible alluvion had well 
nigh swept away every monument of civilization, that brightens 
society ; whelmed every virtue, that corrects the obliquities 
of human life; and desolated every hope of happiness, that 
attaches man to a future existence ! 

The fanaticism, that infected the people, extended its con- 
tagion even to the admmistration. Who has not heard of the 
philosopher Randolph, and the discovery of the " flour plot ?" 
The anxiety, incident to crime, generally furnishes the clue to 
its detection ; and the designs of this apostle of democracy 
had never been ascertained in the extent of their baseness, had 
not his own guilty garrulity, " drawn like French wire," and 
bedight vt^ith fiiiagree syllogism, prattled and quibbled thi^ough 
many a meagre page, to prove himself the traitor, he Avas 
called I The Roman capitol, and the liberties of America, 
have both been preserved by the cackling of a goose ! 

Still, however, the faction, like Antseus, grew stronger by 
its fall ; till its midnight cabals, its secret complottings, and 



318 ORATION. 

Gatalinian conspiracies, were detected, exposed and confound- 
ed, by our guardian Washington ; who, like Uriel descend- 
ing on the sun-beam, discerned the latent fiend entering our 
paradise in a mist 1 But so audacious was the apostacy of our 
disorganizers, that the development of their ci'imes only served 
to harden their effrontery. The obituary " Hie Jacet" of our 
federal constitution was already written in blood by the disci- 
ples of Barras ; and this fair domain of liberty, this last and 
noblest empire of time, was first to be lulled into a deceitful 
security by the hypocritick cant of French philosophy, and 
then to be reasoned into conviction by the cogent logick of 
French bayonets. 

When the flame of indignation, enkindled by the dispatches 
from our Envoys, burst spontaneous from the bosom of every 
honest American, where was the boasted sincerity of this am- 
icable nation ? She denied the officiality of her corrupt agents, 
and with malignant contrition solicited a ncAV diplomatick in- 
tercourse ! But what was the object of this temporising pol- 
icy, — ^^,vhat these hostile proffers of peace ? Were they not 
new baits for our credulity, — ^new " springes to catch Wood- 
cocks ?" To cool the publick resentment by delay, to give 
direction and confidence to her proselytes, and to collect her 
dissipated influence for the decisive blow ? But I trust, my 
young friends, and fellov,^-citizens, that you are now deeply 
convinced, that France, under its present rulers, will make no 
treaty witli you, Avhich you ought in honour to sign ; and that 
a government, Avhichhas derided religion, as a farce, denounced 



ORATION. 319 

the laws of nations, as " worm-eaten codes," and torn up 
the foundations of social virtue, has no pledge to offer for the 
sincerity of its intentions, no sanction to seal the obligation of 
its contracts ! To expect a rigid adherence to the maxims of 
national justice from a people, which has thus annihilated all 
its religious and political duties, would be as fatal, as it is vain. 
It would be more rational and safe, to sleep v/ith the crocodile 
on the banks of the Nile, or repair to the den of the panther 
for the hospitable banquet ! 

But is this metaphysical depravity, this false system of reas- 
on and morals, forever to disconnect the two countries ? I an- 
swer. No ! Though our political alliance with France is, I 
trust, forever dissolved, yet, when the frivolous fluctuations of 
her government shall have subsided to a permanent organiza- 
tion, it is pi'obable a new commercial relation may be adopted. 
But let not the virtue and allegiance of our citizens be seduced 
by the hopeful delusions of emolument. The feculence of 
party is not yet drained of its rankest sediment. The wor- 
shippers of democracy, though their alters are thrown down, 
are not yet converted from their devotions. The frozen snake 
has still some sparks of animation ; and, if placed by compas- 
sion near your hospitable fires, he Avill yet revive Avith exas- 
perated venom, and sting the hardy fool that fostered him. 
Deal therefore with these ferocious demoralizers, as our crafty 
mariners trade with the savages of the Indian ocean — with 
your men at their posts, your guns loaded, and your slow 
matches burning ! 



320 ORATION. 

A pure, unmixed Jacobin, of the secondary order, is an en- 
enniy to all govei'nments, under which he holds no office. Be 
it a republick, it is venal ; an aristocracy, it is feudal ; a 
monarchy, it is despotick. In short, he barks for a pension, 
and raves at his obscurity. Reverse the scene ; present him 
a piece of parchment with the President's seal appendant, 
and you will see 

" That lowliness is young Ambition's ladder. 
Whereto the limber upwards turns bis face. 
But when he once hi tains the topmost round. 
He then unto the ladder turns his back. 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees, 
By which he did ascend." — 

Invest a Jacobin (of this minor species) in the enviable digni- 
ties of a federal commission, and his former virulence will be 
instantly mollified to the most submissive servility. He will 
attack his old companions in iniquity, and beat them at their 
own weapons ; he will write federal libels on the publick 
fences, and break the windows of the Chronicle office ! From 
a most ferocious, he is transformed to a most tractable animal ; 
and from a town-meeting caviller against priests and place- 
men, he becomes the very scavenger of admmistration !* 
Such is the legitimate plebeian democrat ; a mere poisonous 
fungus, produced by the effervescence of the times, " like the 

* This character is only applicable to the mere apprentices of the 
disorganizing- craft, who, from their hebetude, and the incrusted 
maxims of puritanick education cannot relish the sublime horrours 
of abstract profligacy ; and are therefore deemed unfit candidates to 
be initiated into the higher mysteries of illuminatism ! 



ORATION. 32 1 

green mantle on the standing pool," by the putrid exhalatioa 
of a summer's sun. 

But a Jacobin of Weishaupt's school never changes his 
principles : honours and promotions never alter a title of his 
creed ; and he aspires to office only for the purpose of embez- 
zling tlie revenues, and prostrating the happiness of his comi- 
try. A character, so inveterately perverse, has no capacity 
to appreciate the real blessings of Religion, Government or 
Liberty. His whole science is directed to unliinge society, 
his whole ambition to plunder it. He is too ravenous to be 
content with a system of order himself ; and too selfish to 
permit its enjoyment by others. Like a hog in a flower- 
garden, he sets no value on the variegated foliage he destroys, 
and seems only desirous to root out every twig of vegetation, 
that can satiate his voracity.* 

That a free government should always be corroded by a 
desperate faction is as natural, as that the luxuriance of tlie 
soil should be known by the rankness of its weeds ; that the 
majestick oak should be entwined by the baleful ivy ; or tliat 



* To do justice to his subject, the style of a writer must conform 
to it. Were a poet to conjure down every planet and constellation, 
that " frets with gold the vaulted roof of heaven," or to pilfer every 
nosegay from the bosom of Flora, he would not find, in the whole 
motley mass of his plundei', afit simile for a jacobin ! he must descend 
to the most groveling and churlish of the brute creation. The great 
Burke himself, in some of his most celebrated speeches in parlia- 
ment, and particularly in his " Letter to the Duke of Bedford" was 
compelled to commit this outrage on the delicate taste of a critical 
publick ! 

41 



322 ORATION, 

the most fruitful productions of the vegetable world should be 
selected by the cancerous tooth of the caterpillar. 

In the fickle climate of democracy, it is not rational to 
expect a settled season of unclouded tranquillity ; the torpor 
of the elements, and the serenity of the sky are the surest 
harbingers, that the storm is generating. But, to use the meta- 
phor of Mr. Jefferson, should the " tempestuous sea of Lib- 
erty" again dash its audacious billows against the sides of 
our government, it will become the duty of our political pilots, 
in imitation of sacred example, to seize the unrighteous Jonah, 
whose treachery had roused the angry spirits of the deep, and 
plunge him into the foaming waves, to appease the rebellious 
clement. 

The same implacable principle of opposition, which has 
hitherto directed the virulence of our leading demagogues 
against every thing, that is American, either in Religion or 
Laws, has levelled their most pointed opprobrium against this 
celebration of an important anniversary, which has reflected 
so much honour and dignity on the enterprizing and discern- 
ing patriotism of the Young Men of Boston. The most anti- 
quated and " woe-begone" among these acute politicians, who 
are also the most inveterate in their prejudices, and the most 
despotick in their pi-inciples, have assailed you, my young 
friends, with the charge of juvenile presumption in thus con- 
temptuously daring to oppose the ricketty decisions of their 
ridiculous wisdom. To so feeble an attack, it will be only 
necessary to reply, that the Young Men of Boston have not 



ORATION. 323 

yet grown grey in the vices of childhood, nor remained stupid 
in spite of experience. 

The solemn oath of America has ascended to heaven. She 
has sworn to preserve her Independence, her religion and her 
laws, or nobly perish in their defence, and be buried in the 
wrecks of her empire. To the fate of our Government is 
imited the fate of our Country. The convulsion, that destroys 
the one, must desolate the other. Their destinies are inter- 
woven, and they must triumph or fall together. Where then 
is the man, so hardened in political iniquity, as to advocate the 
victories of French arms, which would render his countiymen 
slaves, or to promote the diffusion of French principles, which 
would render them savages ? Can it be doubted, that the pike 
of a French soldier is less cruel and ferocious than the frater- 
nity of a French Philosopher ? Where is the youth in this 
assembly, who could, without agonized emotions, behold the 
Gallick invader hurling the brand of devastation into the dwel- 
ling of his father ; or with sacrilegious cupidity plundering 
the communion-table of his God ? Who could witness, without 
indignant desperation, the mother, who bore him, inhumanly 
murdered, in the defence of her infants ? Who could hear, 
without frantick horrour, the shrieks of a sister, flying from 
pollution, and leaping from the blazing roof, to impale herself 
on the point of a halbert ? " If any, speak, for liim have I 
offended 1" No, my fellow citizens, these scenes are never to 
be witnessed by American eyes. The soul of your ancestors 
still lives in the bosom of their descendants ; and rather than 
submit this fair land of their inheritance to ravage and dishon- 



324 ORATION. 

our, from hoary age to helpless infancy, they will form one 
united bulwark, and oppose their breasts to the assailing foe. 
Not one shall survive, to be enslaved ; for ere the tri-coloured 
flag shall wave over our prostrate republic^, the bones of four 
millions of Americans shall whiten the shores of their country ! 
This depopulated region shall be as desolate, as its original 
wilderness ; the re-vegetating forest shall cover the ruins of 
our cities ; and the savage shall return from the mountains, 
and again rear his hut in the abode of his forefathers. Then 
shall commence the millenium of political illumination ; and 
Frenchmen and wolves, " one and indivisible," nightly chaunt 
their barbarous orgies, to celebrate the PhilosopMck Empire 
of Democracy I 

That America will ultimately be reduced under Gallick 
control is the " flattering unction," which our disorganizers 
have " laid to their souls." They have long been predicting 
the crisis of a new explosion ; and are now anticipating the 
Christian luxury of triumph and revenge. But let tliem be 
no longer deceived ; Americans are as enlightened, as they 
have proved themselves invincible; and the rock-rooted 
foundations of their government can only be shaken by a rev- 
olution of the moral world ! 

The progress of truth is slow, but irresistable. Its tem- 
perate light has at length dawned in Europe, dispelled the 
sickly vapours of illuminatism, and awakened the dormant 
spirit of nations. The armies and fleets of France will op- 
pose its diffusion in vain. The gilt folios of her Savans 
cannot divert its operation ; it will overwhelm all obstacles iii 



ORATIOSf. 32S 

its passage, like the cataract in its fall, and affect every region 
in its career, like the motion of this " great globe itself." 
Already have the boasted conquerors of Italy, covered with 
disaster, disgrace and defeat, retraced their blood-printed 
footsteps through the realms, they had desolated. Already 
do the nations, enslaved by their perfidy, shake off their 
ignommious submission, and rise to " break their chains on 
the heads of their oppressors." The fictitious fabrick of 
French glory, like the Pantheon at Paris, is already cracked 
in its dome, and will ere long crumble into ruins, beneath the 
ponderous pressure of its own incumbent magnificence. 

The government of our country, rich in its resources, 
happy in the blessings, it dispenses, and strong in the alle- 
giance of its citizens, is daily maturing in its wisdom and* 
respectability, like the character of the people, it governs. 
Essential to its very existence is publick virtue. It is the 
bark of our political tree, which conveys the sap to its branches; 
the channel, which supplies its vegetation with aliment. 
Should this vital principle of republicks be perpetuated in its 
vigour and purity, we may fondly hope the longevity of our 
government will be indefinitely protracted. Then may we 
prophecy, that when this century, in the obscuring retrospect 
of time, shall be numbered with the years beyond the flood, 
when the historick fragments of its stupendous events, covered 
with the venerable honours of antiquity, shall be traced by the 
future historian, as the wondering traveller, m his classick 
pilgrimage, now contemplates the ruins of Balbeck, the revolv- 



?26 ORATION. 

ing sun shall not behold, in his journey of ages, a nation, so 
illustrious in its Independence, so happy in its Laws. 

Then shall the heroes and statesmen, who have preserved 
and exalted our country, never be indebted to the charity of a 
foreigner, to snatch their memories from oblivion ; nor their 
tombs be defended by the reproachful paling of iron, to pre- 
serve their ashes from violation. Then shall America, fired 
with the noblest emulation of national spirit, and disdaining to 
discharge her debts of honour by the contracted ledger of 
republican gratitude, never want the cannon of a Truxton, to 
shake the ocean with her resentment ; the lightning of a 
Pickering, to flash conviction on her foes ; nor the arm of a 
Washington, to catch the thunderbolts of France on his buck- 
ler ! the oaken garland* of triumphant Liberty shall bloom with 
unfading honours ; the solid cement, which connects the 
hemispheric arch of our union, shall acquii-e new strength 
and durability from the tempests of t^me ; and the prayers of 
each succeeding generation, proudly exulting in the blessings 
transmitted to them, shall, in unison with ours. 

To Heaven's high throne with rapture be addressed. 
Long- live Columbia, and be Adams blest ! 



*The oaken garland was, among the Romans, the trophy of hon- 
our, that encircled the brows of a victorious general. 



EULOGY 



ON THE LIFE OF 



GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



EULOG Y 



AMERICANS, 

X HE Saviour of your country has obtained his last victory. 
Having reached the summit of human perfection, he has quit- 
ted the region of human glory. Conqueror of time, he has 
triumphed over mortality ; Legate of Heaven, he has returned 
with the tidings of his mission ; Father of his people, he has 
ascended to advocate their cause in the bosom of his God. 
Solemn, " as it were a pause in nature," was his transit to 
eternity ; thronged by the shades of heroes, his approach to 
the confines of bliss ; planed by the song of angels, his jour- 
ney beyond the stars I 

The voice of a grateful and afRicted people has pronounced 
the eulogium of their departed hero ; '■'•Jirst in war, first in 
peace, first in the hearts of his countryvien." That this exalt- 
ed tribute is justly due to his memory, the scar-honoured 
veteran, who has fought under the banners of his glory, the 
enraptured statesman, who has bowed to the dominion of his 
eloquence, the hardy cultivator, whose soil has been defended 
42 



330 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 

by the prodigies of his valour, the protected citizen, whose 
peaceful rights have been secured by the vigilance of his 
■wisdom ; yea, every fibre, that can vibrate in the heart of an 
American, will attest with agonized sensibility. 

Born to direct the destiny of empires, his character was as 
majestick, as the events, to which it was attached, were illus- 
trious. In the delmeation of its features, the vivid pencil of 
Genius cannot brighten a trait, nor the blighting breath of Cal- 
umny obscure. His principles were the result of organick 
philosophy, his success of moral justice. His integrity as- 
sumed the port of command, his intelligence, the aspect of 
inspiration. Glory, to many impregnable, he obtained without 
ambition ; popularity, to all inconstant, he enjoyed without 
jealousy. The one was his from admiration, the other from 
gratitude. The former embellished, but could not reward ; 
the latter followed, but never could lead him. The robust 
vigour of his virtue, like the undazzled eye of the Eagle, was 
inaccessible to human weakness ; and the unaspiring tem- 
perament of his passions, like the regenerating ashes of the 
Phoenix, gave new life to the greatness, it could not extinguish. 
In the imperial dignity of his person was exhibited the august 
stature of his mind : 

" See what a grace was seated on his brow. 
An eye like Mars, the front of Jove himself, 
A combination, and a form indeed, 
Where every God did seem to set his seal. 
To give the world assurance of a man !" 



EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 331 

Oppressed by the disconsolate sensibilities, which this mel- 
ancholy occasion has excited, yet inspired by a veneration, 
which no sense of calamity can suspend, how shall the feeble 
eulogist of the moment I'etrace the path of the hero through 
the rugged acclivities of his fame ; how shadow the outlines 
of a life, whose influence on society has baiRed the imitation 
of the wise ; how define the great proportions of a character, 
which, like the electrick principle, can only be desci'ibed by 
its effects ? What wing of human description shall soar to 
the unclouded height of his talents, what chemistry of human 
judgment shall separate the elements of his virtues ? The 
magnificence of his deeds has outvied the heraldry of fancy ; 
and the purity of his motives has bewildered the deductions 
of reason. 

From his first appearance on the theatre of publick life, 
ere the modest simplicity of enterprize had invited the deco- 
rations of artificial honour, ere the " hair-breadth escapes" of 
the Monongahcla had elicited the native energies of heroism, 
to the maturest era of his excellence, when victory had noth- 
ing left to bestow, and Fame herself had dispaired of render- 
ing to his merits their equivalent reward, we behold the same 
undeviating course of magnanimous action, rising, like the 
sun, in gradual and majestick progression. In no situation, 
to which the emergencies of his country have called him, 
however insulated with peril, or fortified by prosperity, do we 
at any time detect his invincible equanimity modified by inci- 
dent. In no climax of fortU;ne do we behold him dejected 
by obstacle, or elevated by success ; desperate in danger, or 



332 EtlLOGY ON WASHINGTON. 

sanguine in triumph. Deliberate to concert, he was vigorous 
to execute ; intrepid to conquer, he was humane to forgive. 
In council, he united the calculations of the veteran to the 
ruling impulse of the patriot : in battle, he never shed the 
blood of an enemy, but for victory, nor gained a victory, but for 
his country. 

As the director of that important and dubious contest, which 
issued in the establishment of our liberty and independence, 
he displayed an impressive grandeur of exertion, which niar- 
shalled into hostility the fluctuating vigour of his countrymen, 
and is still remembered with awe in the astonishment of 
nations. To the rapacious cabinet of the mother country, 
which had recently learnt, in the disastrous campaign of Brad- 
dock, that her gloiy was mortal, he had given his name a 
formidable estimation by his military prowess on that memor- 
able occasion. In the enjoyment of an ample paternal domain, 
he was reposing \uider the groves of fame and philosophy, 
when the chafed lion of New-England " leaped on the daring 
huntsman, that had galled him," and boldly bade defiance to 
his power. The dawn of our revolution was overshadowed 
with clouds, that would have damped the ardour of any people, 
whose bosoms Avere noti nspired by the incontrollable enthusi- 
asm of liberty. But what hope of success could this high- 
born principle, though stimulated by injury, afford to the 
unwarlike peasantry of a country, without arms, without dis- 
cipline, without funds, without a leader, in contending with an 
empire, whose policy and valour had for centuries kept the 
nations of Europe in its toils ? Yet, at tliis inauspicious 



EtTLOGY ON WASHINGTON. 333 

juncture, when every prospect was enveloped with disaster, 
when unsuccessful opposition could promise no reward, but 
aggravated oppression, when political infidelity had almost 
chilled with dismay the kindling fervour of Americans ; at 
this moment, so potentous, so gloomy, did the calm, inflexible, 
unassimilating Washington, relinquish without reluctance the 
magnificent retirement of wealth and honour ; and, committing 
to the hazard of the contest the pleasures, that allured him to 
seclusion, and the character, that attached him to life, appealed 
to the God of armies to attest a soldier's oath, " / will triumph^ 
or die with my countrymen /" Animated by his guiding intel- 
ligence, America awoke to the consciousness of her powers ; 
and, realising the boast of the Roman hero, an army, organized 
n. by his creative discipline, arose at his command. 

Through the vicissitudes of war, singularly fluctuating in 
its fortunes, and desolating in its effects, he discovered a con- 
stant principle of action, which acquired no lustre from the 
brilliant exploits, it achieved, but derived all its glory from its 
own original greatness. Self-dependent and self-elevated, it 
disdained the fictitious aid of circumstance ; and never did it 
shine with more splendour and energy, than when fortune had 
deserted him, and his country had despaired. The activity of 
a fortitude, whose stability was reason, invigorated the opera- 
tions of an intellect, whose object was liberty. What but this 
invincible constitution of soul, whose gigantick philosophy 
always rose with the difficulties, it encountered, could have 
sustained the drooping cause of an half-conquered people, at 
that momentous and almost hopeless crisis, when the banks 



334 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON- 

of the Delaware were lined by a triumphant enemy, impatient 
for our subjugation ; when the ranks of our brave defenders, 
thinned by battle, by famine and retreat, crimsoned their flying 
encampments with the blood of their foot-steps ; when the 
fate of a continent was suspended on the incredible exertions 
of anight, and a conspiracy of the elements opposed the prog- 
ress of the eventful entei-prize 1 The mind, that was inacces- 
sible to despair, was invulnerable to disaster ; and at the 
instant, when the fangs of our Invader were unclutched to 
fasten on his prey, when his pampered ambition was gloating 
on the spoils of unconditional submission, the distant thunder 
of the cannon at Trenton aroused him from his dreams of 
dominion, and convinced him, that the resources of a Wash- 
ington were not to be computed by the extent of his 
entrenchments, nor his activity to be palsied by a campaign of 
disasters. 

To the pen of the historian must be resigned the more 
arduous and elaborate tribute of justice to those efforts of he- 
roick and political virtue, which conducted the American 
people to peace and liberty. The vanquished foe retii'ed fi'om 
our respiring shores, and left to the controuling Genius, who 
repelled them, the gratitude of his own country, and the admi- 
ration of the world. The time had now arrived, which was 
to apply the touchstone to his integrity ; Avhich was to assay 
the affinity of his principles to the standard of immutable right. 
Enjoying the unbounded confidence of an emancipated people, 
whose filial reverence had associated in his character a great- 
ness, unexampled by patriotism, with a purity, unsunned by 



EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 335 

suspicion ; and commanding the implicit affections of an army 
of veterans, whose unliquidated demands, on the justice of an 
impoverished publick, might have rendered them zealous 
instruments of ambition ; the deliverer of his country was now 
the arbiter of its fate. It was now the flood-tide of his glory, 
on which he had only to embark, and the current would have 
wafted him to his haven. That decisive moment in the exist- 
ence of nations and men, on which the destinies of both are 
suspended, was now flitting- on the dial's point of the crisis. 
On the one hand, a realm, to which he was endeared by his 
services, almost invited him to empire : on the other, the lib- 
erty, to whose protection his life had been devoted, was the 
ornament and boon of human nature. Washington could not 
depart from his own great self. His country was free ; he 
was no longer a general ! Sublime spectacle ! more elevating 
to the pride of virtue, than the sovreignty of the globe united 
... to the sceptre of ages ! Enthroned in the hearts of his country- 
^men, the gorgeous pageantry of prerogative was unworthy the 
majesty of his dominion. That eff"ulgence of military charac- 
ter, which in ancient states has blasted the rights of the people, 
whose renown it had brightened, was not here permitted, by 
the hero, from whom it emanated, to shine with so destructive 
a lustre. Its beams, though intensely resplendent, did not 
wither the young blossoms of our independence ; and libertj', 
like the burning bush, flourished, unconsumed by the glory, 
which surrounded it. 



336 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 

To the illustrious founder of our republick was it reserved, 
to exhibit the example of a magnanimity, that commanded 
victory ; of a moderation, that retired from triumph. Unlike 
the en^atick meteors of ambition, whose flaming path sheds a 
disastrous light on the pages of history, his bright orb, eclips- 
ing the luminaries, among which it rolled, never portended 
" fearful change" fo religion, nor from its '^ golden tresses" 
shook pestilence on empire. What to other heroes has been 
glory, would to him have been disgrace. To his intrepidity 
it would have added no honorary trophy, to have waded, like 
the conqueror of Peru, through the blood of credulous mil- 
lions, to plant the standard of triumph at the burnbg mouth 
of a volcano ! To his fame it would have erected no auxiliary 
monument, to have invaded, like the ravager of Egypt, an 
innocent, though barbarous nation, to inscribe his name on 
the pillar of Pompey ! 

Self, the grand hinge, on which revolve the principles and 
passions, that have swelled the obituary of nations, made not 
an unit in the calculations of a mind, which considered gran- 
deur as the inseparable incident of rectitude ; which owed to 
fortune nothing of its glory, to enthusiasm nothing of its virtue. 
From " heaven's high chancery" had issued his commission ; 
he obeyed the. Godlike precept, it contained; he created a 
nation ! The glorious work completed, so was his ambition. 
The reward of his labours was the enjoyment of that liberty, 
he had protected from violation ; and the boast of his pride 
Avas the cultivation of that soil, he had defended from subjec- 



EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 337 

don. Amid the fondest caresses of fame, that pursued him 
to i^etirement,— -blush, — ye lieroick murderei-s of mankind I 
never did the transcendent Washington, on the pinnacle of his 
greatness, deign to be conscious, that by his talents his country 
was free, that in her glory himself was immortal ! 

Publick opinion has, in all ages, been as volatile, as the air 
that wafts it ; and the fate, which has attended the benefactors 
of their country, has been as chequered, as the passions, and 
perverse, as the ingratitude of man. A tyrsnt, sainted by the 
people, he had enslaved, has been elevated to a niche in the 
Pantheon ; while a hero, whose talents and services had prop- 
ped a falling empire, has found at last a more faitliful friend 
in the mastiff, that conducted him, than in the nation he had 
protected. But it has been the peculiar lot of a Washing- 
ton, to unite to an integrity, which could impeach the ambi- 
tion of malice, the vigilance of an enterprise, which could 
arrest the decisions of fortune. Through the long labours 
of a life, w^hich forms an epoch in history, never for a moment 
Avas he rivalled in the affections of his countrymen ; and to the 
honour of Americans be it recorded, that their gratitude to 
the man, who had established their independence, existed, at 
the period of impending anarchy, the only cementing bond of 
union, which preserved their jarring interests from a destruc- 
tive coUission. 

The temporary structure of the old confederation, which 
had been planned merely for the purposes of a revolutionary 
government, when the passions of the people were united. 



338 EULOGY ON WASHI>!rGTON, 

was found, upon a brief experiment, to be totally incompetent, 
to direct the affairs of an extending nation, when peace had 
restored the complicated occupations of life, and demanded a 
more uniform protection from the energies of law. The in- 
conveniences, resulting from its defects, had given occasion 
to designing demagogues, who hoped to profit by a separation 
of the states, to foment divisions among a people, who too 
lightly valued the blessings, they enjoyed. The union of the 
country was in danger ; and the evil was of too baneful a na- 
ture to admit of a partial or dilatory remedy. But, how novel, 
how aspiring, was the hope of connecting, under one compact 
code of general jurisprudence, so many distinct sovereignties, 
each jealous of its independence, without iinpairing their re- 
spective authorities ? The unbalanced bodies of the confeder- 
acy, had almost overcome ths attracting powers, that restrained 
them ; when the watchful guardian of his country's interests, 
the heart-uniting Washington appeared, the political magnet 
in the centre of discord, and reconciled and consolidated the 
clashing particles of the system in an indissoluble union of 
government. 

Possessing, as well from experience, as intuition, the master 
science, that could direct the impulses of human action j 
and invested, by the crowded benefactions of a life of glory, 
with a charm of eloquence, which impressed the convictions 
of reason on the pliant gratitude of his countrymen ; he ruled 
in the counsels of that august body of statesmen and patriots, 
the fruit of whose co-operating talents was the present consti- 



EULOGY ON WAPHINGTON, 339 

tution of America. By the unanimous suffrage of an enlight- 
ening- and confiding people, appomted to the administration of 
a government, in Mdiose construction he had exerted so bene- 
ficial an influence, he brought to the execution of that impor- 
tant and arduous trust, the energy of a mind, whose elevation 
could borrow no dignity from station, and the integrity of a 
heart, whose sensibility could receive no bias, but from his 
country. With what wisdom and vigour he discharged the 
hazardous and thronging duties of an incipient magistracy, the 
revival of political harmony, the extended confidence of com- 
merce, the unexampled increase of national credit and wealth, 
and the happiness and morality of the people, will furnish a 
more satisfactory evidence, than the most brilliant description 
of the panegyrist. In this unpi'ecedented transition of office, 
his character has assumed a new and astonishing attitude ; 
the impenetrable hardihood of the conqueror was rivalled by 
the intelligent policy of the statesman. Pierced by the glance 
of his admmistration. Party, like the recreant eye of the felon, 
shrunk abashed from his scrutiny ; and, unnerved by the sanc- 
tity of his person, Degeneracy, like the viper at Melita, fell 
harmless from his hand. Appaled by the oppressive contem- 
plation of his gratitude, the "cloudcapt" crest of Ambition 
was overawed by the majesty of virtue ; and, maddened to 
desperation by the invulnerable purity of his life, the snakes 
of Envy recoiled upon the head of their mistress, and burrow- 
ed to the brain, that supplied their venom. 



340 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 

Exemplar of heroes ! in what favoured nation or era shall 
the exulting philanthropist record the existence of a character, 
uniting, like thine, in one bright constellation of talents, every 
civick and military glory, that blazons in legend, or beams in 
history ! Should we search in the achives of classick antiquity, 
Ave might find a wise and venerable Fabius, who, like thee, 
could " save a nation by delay ;" but never, like thee, could 
seize victory by enterprise, and outstride fortune by the fore- 
sight of philosophy ! We might behold the majestick Cincin- 
natus, who, like thee, in the vigour of Roman heroism, could 
I'etum, from the conquest of his country's enemies, to his 
humble Mount Vernon beyond the Tyber ; but never, like 
thee, to protect from faction the liberties, he had wrested from 
invasion ! We might trace the great Julius, extending the 
terror of his eagles through realms, before unshadowed by 
their pinions ; we might follow him to the forum, and listen 
to an eloquence, like thine, when applauding senates instinctly 
moved at his controul ; but where, in the map of thy victories, 
shall we find the banks of a Rubicon ! 

Encumbered with honours, the father of his country once 
more returned to the unambitious abodes of his affection, fol- 
lowed by the tears and blessings of his fellow-citizens ! The 
glory, which had encircled the scenes of his action, could 
not be excluded by the solitude of retirement. He had de- 
vested the insignia of command, but his empire was not 
diminished. He had surrendered the badges of fame, but 
the gaze of the world did not suspend its veneration. The 



EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 341 

name of Washington was still a battlement to his country, 
under whose protection liberty exulted ; at whose terrors hos- 
tility trembled. 

Though remote from the causes of European contest, yet 
affected by the convulsions, it excited, in vain had our nation 
attempted to maintain with honour an unprotected neutrality. 
Piracy plundered the ocean ; Invasion threatened our shores. 
Again, were the eyes of" America directed with trembling 
solicitude to her venerable deliverer ; and, again did this man 
without example, this patriot without reproach, whose life 
was his country, whose glory was mankind, resign with alac- 
rity to the cause, he had sworn to defend, the tranquil hope 
of repose, to which he had devoted the unc-ouded evening of a 
life of toils 1 The character was perfect ! Washington now 
touched " the highest point of all his greatness." A more 
than human splendour surrounded him. The etherial spirit 
of his virtues towered above the globe, they adorned, and 
seemed to meditate their departure to their native mansion. 
Of the frailty of man nothing now remained, but his mortality ; 
and, having accomplished the embassy of a benevolent Prov- 
idence ; having been the founder of one nation, and the sub- 
lime instructor of all, he took his flight to Heaven ; not like 
Mahomet, for his memory is immortal without the fiction of 
a miracle ; not like Elijah, for recording time has not regis- 
tered the man, on whom his mantle should descend ; but in 
humble imitation of that Omnipotent Architect, who retui-ned 



342 EULor;Y on Washington". 

from a created universe, to contemplate from his throne the 
stupendous fabrick, he had erected ! 

The august form, whose undaunted majesty could arrest 
the lightening, ere it fell on the bosom of his country, now 
sleeps in silent I'uin, untenanted of its celestial essence. But 
the incorruptible example of his virtues shall survive, unim- 
paired by the corrosion of time; and acquire new vigour and 
influence, from the crimes of ambition, and the decay of em- 
pires. The invaluable valediction, bequeathed to the people, 
who inherited his affections, is the effort of a mind, whose 
powers, like those of prophecy, could overleap the tardy pi'o- 
gress of human reason, and unfold truth v/ithout the labour of 
investigation. Impressed in indelible characters, this Legacy 
of his intelligence will descend, unsullied as its purity, to the 
wonder and instruction of succeeding generations ; and, should 
the mild philosophy of its maxims be ingrafted into the policy 
of nations, at no distant period will the departed hero, who 
now lives only in the spotless splendour of his own great 
actions, exist in the happiness and dignity of mankind. 

The sighs of contemporary gratitude have attended the 
Sublime Spirit to its paternal abode ; and the prayers of 
ameliorated posterity will ascend in glowing remembrance of 
their illustrious benefactor ! The laurels, that now droop, as 
they shadow his tomb with monumental glory, will be culti- 
vated by the tears of ages ; and, embalmed in the heart of an 
admiring world, the Temple, erected to his memory, will be 
more glorious, than the pyramids, and as eternal, as his OAvn 
imperishable virtues. 



COMMUNICATION, 



ON THE 



BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 



The following Observations on the Boston Female Asylum were 
first published, as a Communication, in the Boston Gazette, 
April 1, 1802. 



*' Let not the Orphan cry. 

Be Father to me. Heaven ! But bid the cold 
And houseless ones, pining and pale before. 
Beholding thee, pluck comfort from thy looks ; 

.....For he, who doth the ravens feed. 

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow. 

Will bless the charity, and treasure up 

A mercy for thee, when thyself shalt need it '." 

i HE Female Orphan Asylum, originally projected, and now 
honourably established by the Ladies of this town, is undoubt- 
edly among those institutions, which do high honour to the 
human heart, as imitating an attribute of divine benevolence, 
<' in tempering the wind to the shorn lamb ;" but it is also 
^mong those inventions of policy, which are marked by histo» 
rians, as features of the times, characterizing human society, 
and evincing the state of civilization. To the Ladies of Bos- 
ton, most exquisite must be the reward of their munificence. 
But their px'aise is not of words. When I was young, some 
of the sex persuaded me to believe myself a Poet ; but I can- 
not recollect a moment, either lucid or delirious, throughout 
44 



346 COMMUNICATION ON THE 

the frolick season of my youthful vanity, when Fancy was bold 
enough to atten[ipt their panegyrick on such an occasion. But 
in their closets they will often unexpectedly meet a silent 
Commentator, sitting in the judgment-seat of memory, penning 
reflections on Female virtue, and writing fairer lines of Eulogy, 
than ever flowed from the lips of " Bard inspired." In their 
excursions too, among the walks of wretchedness and inno- 
cence, relieved and protected, they will often be compelled to 
see and to feel, how eloquent is Nature. Theirs shall be the 
pearly offering of humble, yet proud thankfulness. The tear, 
which trickles down the little Orphan's cheek, glittering with 
the reflected smile of its benefactress, is a pearl of moi'e worth 
than rubies. It is one of nature's hieroglyphicks, and speaks 
in a language, which the confusion of tongues did not corrupt ; 
though embellished and beautiful, it is without rhetorical orna- 
ment ; and though its address is to the eye, where its mystery- 
is not decyphered, yet it rapidly glides to another tribunal, and 
dissolves into gratitude at the heart. '■ 

To the fair founders of this Institution will such oblations 
be frequent. They will flatter not, and yet they will flatter 
most truly ; for they will meet the consciousness of all female 
hearts, to which they appeal ; and acquire new sentiment and 
pathos, from that recollection of good deeds, which inhabits 
those mansions of peace. 

To complete the benevolent plan, which the Ladies of Bos- 
ton have so zealously espoused and promoted, a few Gentle^ 
men of the metropolis have lately off"ered their assistance i, 
and their attention has been very honourably directed to the 



BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 347 

erection of an Orphan House. To men, ranging in spheres 
of active life, and who ought not, without motives of poignancy, 
to " shake off the busy coil" of commerce, a brief explication 
of the views, contemplated by the founders of the " Asylum," 
seems to be due ; as it is confidently believed, such a disclo- 
sure will insure their cordial co-operation. 

Female Orphans, from three to ten years of age, are admit- 
ted into the Asylum, and are the only objects of its institution. 
They are here placed under the tuition of a Governess, and are 
instructed in all the useful branches of domestick education, 
nurtured in habits of decorum, order and morality, accom- 
plished only in tlie graces of female modesty and virtue, reg- 
ularly convened in the House of Divine Worship, and snatched 
from the adulterations of modern philosopliism by the hand 
of religion, 

" Pointing through Nature, up to Nature's God." 

At the age of ten years, these children are placed in proper 
families, chosen by the Trustees of the " Asylum," to con- 
tinue for the term of eight years ; and, though here removed 
from their immediate conti'oul and inspection, they are still 
under their parental protection. If the family, in which an 
Orphan is placed, is unsuitable, either by reason of improper 
management, or ill usage, the Trustees will remove the girl 
to a proper situation, till the completion of her probatory term. 
During this period of her service, the providence of the insti- 
tution still hovers over her. Sensations of gratitude prompt 
her to obedience. Reared to be respected, and to be loved, 
She, in return, respects her liberal superiours, and loves those 



348 COMMUNICATION ON THE 

principles, by which she has been protected. Familiar with 
the duties of domestick scenes, she becomes an important 
character in society ; and having been herself the foster-child 
of humanity, she associates the ideas of charity and of duty : 
and is taught to consider social life, as a supplement to the 
degrees of consanguinity, designed to connect those by the 
kindred of virtue, whom nature has separated. Abandoned 
by unfeeling wealth, she might have sunk under the contempt 
of neglect, and, by a sort of moral retaliation, retorted upon that 
stern world the only punishment, left in the revenge of female 
misery, a career of vice and infamy ! But now adopted by one 
sex, respected by the other, aloof from the persecution of scorn, 
and lifted into character by the animations of benevolence, she 
repays the debt of gratitude, she contracted in her infancy, by 
a life of virtue and usefulness. Gentlemen, who are heads of 
families, will, I a.m sure, give weight to these reflections. The 
morals of that class of females, who are commonly employed 
in the Service of families, are of the highest importance to 
society. From their domestick situation, their manners are 
of greater moment, than the value of their capacity. No com- 
plaint is at present more general, or more lamentable, than 
the outcry against the profligacy and ignorance of female ser- 
vants. This is truly to be regretted. The link, which con- 
nects the master and the servant, is one of the strongest bonds 
of society. Reward and gentleness on the one part, attach- 
ment and service on the other, are correlative terms. But the 
Telation itself scarcely now exists in our country. Establish 
the " Female Asylum," on its contemplated plan, and the 



BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 349 

chasm in the social connexion is filled up. Females in that 
order of life will be entitled to our respect ; and female ser- 
vice, instead of being, as it now is, an appellation of disgrace, 
will become a badge of honourable distinction. To effect this 
fair, and desirable purpose, the erection of an Orphan House, 
is indispensably essential. The obvious necessity of it needs 
no argument to advocate it in the mind of the humane. 
Even if its sole and ultimate object was the protection and 
shelter of these unhappy and deserted children, from the 
inclemency of the elements, or the biting blasts of misery, 
what heart can resist the application ? How often has the man 
of wealth, with aching pity, beheld the weeping, houseless 
one, wandering through the deep severity of winter, shivering 
in rags and penury, to beg the refuse morsel, or the cast off 
garment ? How oft has the man of sensibility exclaimed, 
" Mine enemy's dog, even if he had bitten me, should sleep 
by my fire side, on such a day as this." The erection of such 
an edifice combines every motive, either moral or humane, 
which compels human action. To the Philosopher, who 
stands msulated from society, and views man in the bustle of 
life,likeamoat upon a whirlwind, the slave of accident, derive 
ing his course from the current, in which he swims ; even to 
this stern and stoical observer the petition of these Orphans 
has a charm, which can melt the austerity of his Avisdom. 
For though he may not expect benefit to himself from the 
relief of these innocents, he yet will like to make an experi- 
ment upon his own heart, by a practical application of one of 
his favourite apothegms, 

" Twere good to do so much for chai-ity." 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 



The following critiques were published, from time to time, during 
the winter of 1808, in a weekly miscellany, called the Times ; 
they were there printed in numbers, under the name of the 
"Theatre." 



"Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice," 

A HE interesting Drama of " Adrian and Orilla," has been 
performed thrice in succession, with correctness, ability and 
applause. It is a Play formed on the German model, and 
abounds with poetick description ; yet it is enlivened by occa- 
sional coruscations of wit, and addressed to the feelings by 
many masterly touches of nature. 

Of the respective performers we do not pretend to offer a 
minute examination ; but so strongly impressed are we with 
the uncommon accuracy and force of the representation,that we 
are willmg to subscribe, without cynical deduction, to the merit 
of most of the principal agents in the scene. Verbal criticism 
is extremely useful to the stage, in correcting the vices gf 
45 



354 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

pronunciation, or the errors of emphasis ; but in this extraor- 
dinary instance of excellency, 

" We can't catch words, — and pity those who can !" 

In such cases, where the examples, of mei'it or defect, are 
general, one comment, Avell defined, is fully as competent to 
the just purposes of praise or censure, as an elaborate disser- 
tation on points of effect, which the author never conceived, or 
a stop-watch lecture, from the doctrine of pauses, on the dif- 
ference between a comma and a colon, which many of the 
performers do not understand ! Our remarks, therefore, shall 
be composed of extracts fix)m the " brief chronicles" of criti« 
cism. 

Mrs. Stanley's performance of " Orilla," exhibited new and 
almost unexpected proofs of the diversity as well, as power 
of her genius. In courtly or arch Comedy, where taste 
requires elegance of dress, language and deportment, and wit 
needs a skilful archer to give wing and direction to her 
arrows, the palm of preeminence has long been conceded to 
her by the general consent of all critical or fashionable tribu- 
nals. But in " Orilla," she combined such expressive sim- 
plicity with such well-delineated tenderness, that we could 
not but feel the conviction, produced by her loveliness and 
interest in the character, that she could never fail to excel in 
all tragick personations of love or sympathy, in which the 
picture is drawn from existing images ; or rather, in which 
nature is permitted to walk the stage in her own decent and 
graceful apparel, untortured by the bodices of folly, or the 
Stilts of declamation I It is in point to add, that, in London, her 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS- ^55 

" Juliet," and " Cordelia," were Considered good specimens 
of this species of tragick excellence. 

Mrs. Powell has not, within our recollection, claimed so 
high a rank in her profession, as in " Madame Clermont." 
No character could be better adapted to her powers, and in 
none has she ever appeared with more commanding or endear- 
ing influence. We cannot bestow a more unequivocal proof of 
our admiration, than by acknowledging, that the denouement 
of the Play owed its interest and impression to her exertions. 

Mrs. Shaw gave the prattle and the pride, the jibes and 
the jeers, of the vain, talkative " Githia," with great vivacity 
and effect. 

Mr. Caulfield gratified our wishes, and exceeded our hopes. 
We never doubted his conception or his energy ; and, on this 
occasion, we make a most courtly bow to his memory ! But, 
•without reverting to those lapses of retention or defects of 
study, which have sometimes obscured his fame, we are now 
willing to tender him our respect and praise. 

Of the " Count Rosenheim," by Mr. Usher, we shall not 
retail the censures we every where heard ; but shall beg him 
to reconsider the part ; for, at present, his conception is as 
much out of character, as his dress. Neither of them came' 
from the Count of Saxony ! 

Mr. Fox's " Adrian" had more of passion, than distinc- 
tion. It is his common fault to blaze, without directing his 
fire. Yet, as there are some beings in the theatre, and sono- 
rous ones too, who cannot kindle upon any occasion, we con- 
fess we are delighted with a scenick explosion, even if it have 



356 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

no other object, than the emancipation of fixed air ! But, with- 
out a jest, or what is more, without chymistry, (for even her 
power has nothing to do with such volatile particles, as escape 
from analysis,) we candidly allow, that Mr. Fox in one or 
two scenes, deserved high credit for his spirited execution. 
Yet it is to be regretted, that his glow of sentiment, and pitch 
of intonation had no variety. Fiery and unaccommodating, 
his enthusiasm perceived no diversity in the situations and 
characters, with which it was concerned. He breathed love, 
and blustered heroicks, in the same tyrannick style ; and, 
" Void of distinction, marked all scenes the same." 

We are tempted to depart from our rule of general obser- 
vation, by an instance of the nicest discrimination, we ever 
witnessed on our stage. It occurred in the scene between 
" Orilla" and her father, in the second act, when he insists on 
her marriage with " Altenburgh." To ascertain the beauty 
of a particular touch in a picture, its relation to the whole 
should be considered. At her first interview with the Prince, 
in reply to her father's praises of him, she says, " You fire- 
pared me, Sir, to admire, resfiect, and love him" 

" Alt. To LOVE me Orilla ! 

" Orilla. (with simplicity^ Yes, like a second father !" 

In the ensuing scene, a delicate relation is had to this expres- 
sion of her filial affection to the Prince, in contradiction to that 
sexual passion, which is the source of the nuptial union. : 

" Rosen. The Prince Altenburgh destines Yoii to become 
his tvife. 

" Orilla. Father ! 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 357" 

« Rosen. Nay, I am not jesting ; on my life *tis true. 

" Orilla. Oh ! Sir, spare me, forgive me ; but indeed, I 
cannot— '»zarrj/—Altenburgh." 

We have never known an example of more correct empha- 
sis. The nature of her esteem for the Prince is distinctly 
illustrated according to the true sense of the author. We 
should not have remarked this, but that such delicate traces 
of excellence are too minute for common observation. 



" Non seipsum, sed vitia ejus excidit." 

X. HE spritely, entertaining, and epigrammatick comedy of 
" Rule a Wife and have a Wife," has kept a distinguished and 
honourable possession of the English stage, through many 
successions of taste, revolutions of fashion, and generations of 
wit. It is the joint production of Beaumont and Fletcher, who, 
as in their lives and affections they were inseparable compan- 
ions and inviolable friends, have been, in their works, veiy 
justly denominated the Orestes and Pylades of the poetick 
world. The conduct of the plot is most industriously busy ; 
the features of the characters are well diversified and defined ; 
and the colours of the colloquy are strikingly adapted to the 
design of the sketch, and, tempered with the correcting dilu- 
tions of Garrick, sufficiently chaste. This play, therefore. 



358 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

though venerable in its renown, is even young in its effect, on 
the stage ; Decies rejietita filacebit. 

Tobin,one of the few legitimate and masculine writers for the 
modern drama, one of the few unyielding minds, that have 
resisted the meretricious innovations of a corrupt, though 
pampered taste, has unquestionably copied from our authors 
the model of his style, tliough he has borrowed the essence of 
many of his principle characters from Shakespeare. 

The performance of this comedy on Wednesday evening, 
was attended with the high expectation of the whole coterie 
of letters and taste, not only from its intrinsick merit, but 
peculiarly from the imcommon power of talent, which was 
enlisted to support its representation. 

Mr. Cooper, as " Leon," has always been a very prominent 
figure in the piece. The character has various attitudes of 
life, and modes of deportment ; all of which, though equally 
natural, must still be moulded and finished by the exactest 
rules of technical skill. Hence arises the difficulty of the 
portraiture ; for it is the perfection of art to conceal art. The 
praise, then, is of no mean distinction, when we add, that his 
strict preservation of the scene eminently assisted his contrast 
of personation. In the first temporary instant of self-re- 
assumption to "Althea," he commanded a burst of applause 
from the suddenness and integrity of the transition ; and when, 
after his marriage with " Margaretta," upon tlie arrival of the 
intriguing Duke, he entirely " threw his cloud off," the dig- 
nified manhood, mingled with the imposing gentleness of his 
manner, might very naturally over-awe the noble conspirator' 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 359 

against his family honour, while it confounded the contriving 
forecast of the " little piece of mischief," he had espoused. 
The judicious and opportune gradations, by which he ascend- 
ed to this open assertion of his marital rights, had given a 
previous but faint dawn of the man. The mist of concealment 
had begun to break away in the preceding scene. 

" I am your husband ; 

But what are husbands ? Read the new world's wonders, 
And you shall scarce find such dtformities. 
They're shadoivs to conceal your -venial virtues ; 
Sails to your mills^ that grind on all occasions ; 
Balls., that lie by you, to wash out your stains." 

But, 

" I've done, madam ; 

An ox once sfioke, as learned men deliver," &c. 

Upon the last line, he fell back again into his former rus- 
ticity of manner and vacuity of mind : for the moment, tlie 
plot glimmered, but was suddenly hooded again. This was 
a delicate, characteristick stroke of the pencil, which evinced 
the perfect knowledge of the art. 

In reply to " Margaretta," " Why, whereas the dinner .?'* 
" Leon," entering in his entire metamorphosis of dress and 
deportment, answers in the firm and collected tone of a gen= 
tleman : 

" 'Tis not ready, madana; 

Nor shall, until / know the guests too ; 

Kor are they fairly welcome, 'till /bid them." 



360 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

The illusion of the well dissembled clown was entirely van- 
ished, without leaving behind one posthumous trait ; and 
the figure of the 

« Understanding, feeling man, 

Who, sensible of what a woman aims at. 
Dared stand upon the ground of his own honour," 
was not only depicted, but embodied before us. His discrim- 
ination and elocution, throughout this whole scene, was of the 
first taste and impression. The speech : 

" i/e, who dares strike against the hnsh^nd's freedom, 
The husband's cu7-se stick to him," Sec. 

was delivered with that boldness of sentiment and truth 
of feeling, which left the impetuous duke very little 
appetite to " fall on," when invited by " I'm ready to oppose 
ye."- 

We might proceed to transcribe many passages of parallel 
excellence. One instance more shall suffice. When " Juan" 
discloses to him the last artifice of the duke : 

« That same scratch 

On's hand, he took, to colour all, and draw compassion. 
That he might get into your house more cunningly," 
he instantly replies with a generous glow of feeling, 

" I thank ye, noble colonol ; and I honour ye." 
The sensibility of the audience was strongly excited. 

We are aware that criticism has little zest for the fastidious 
palate, unless some imperfections, apparent or imaginary, are 
either detected or invented. But, if we were disposed to 
enact words, to I'efine on the inflexions of the voice, or weigh 



THEATRICAL CrJTiCISMS 36i 

t)Ut the true avoirdupois of emphasis, we think, without elab" 
orate research, we should not lack for ingenuity to seize some 
few moments, in which Mr. Cooper would be caught tripping. 
But his occasional lapses, in this cliaracter, have not substance 
for serious accusation. The general complexion of his acting 
is engrained with more of nature, and less of the schools, than 
most of his contemporaries ; for, though he is well disciplined 
in the " artifice of speech," it is his second ambition to be 
laboriously correct, when passion stimulates the bounding 
nerve to ovei^leap the dogmas of pedantry. The high supre- 
macy of description over narration, constitutes, says Lord 
Kaims, the pre-eminence of Shakespeare over Corneille and 
Racine. The difference is that of history and life. The mind 
pays homage to chronicles, but the eye is enraptured with 
pictures. The canvass breathes, while the parchment only 
records. Quintilian was classically copious in learning and 
elegance ; but Longinus kindled the lore of erudition by the 
fire of genius. 

"And was, himself, the great sublime, he drew." 

The space, we have assigned to " Leon," must necessarily 
limit our remarks on the other persons of the drama. 

We are among the number of those, who are peculiarly 
gratified by the visit, which Mr. Harwood has paid to our 
boards. Proud of the liberal spirit of our theatre, which has 
courted the approach of genius, we trust that, in future, the 
interchange of meritorious performers will indulge the hopes 
of customiiry expectation. This courtesy is highly honourable 
to the profession, and it can never be so " honoured in the 



362 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

breach, as in the observance." Managers and performers should 
ponder on their common interest ; all are raised and rewarded 
by the respect paid to excellence ; for the whole family of 
talent has but one origin, and the ties of affinity should be 
every where felt and regarded. 

" Michael Perez" was pourtrayed, by Mr. Harwood, with 
more justness of conception, and spirit of execution, than 
fidelity to his author. Some of his touches were remarkably 
happy ; while, in other instances, he seemed to want that ease 
of recollection, which the volatile humour of the character 
required to give it efficiency. Many passages, however, might 
be easily selected, in which his comick power was vividly 
displayed. His outline did not want force, nor his coloure 
harmony ; but, from brevity of study, some of his moments 
were unfinished. Of his scenes, that in the fourth act, with 
" Estifania" had the best design and most striking relief. In- 
deed, we can recommend the whole of this piquant, tricksy 
rencontre, given and retorted as it was on both sides, as an 
example, rarely instanced, of good modern acting, arrayed 
in the guise of old English wit and repartee. 

From many singular instances of comick expression we 
would chuse, as a specimen, the speech to " Leon" in reply 
to his challenge : 

" He has h&M persuaded me, I was bred in the moon j 
Will ye walk out^ Sir ? 

And if I do not beat thee, presently, ^ 

Into a sound belief, as sense can give thecj^ 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 363 

Brick me into that wall^ there, for a chimney piece, 

And say, I Avas one of the Cesars, done by a seal cutter" 

If he had any prevailing defect, it was an overcrowded pre- 
cipitation of delivery. 

Mrs. Stanley's " Estifania" added a new sprig of bay to 
her chaplet of comick renown. In higher walks of comedy, 
her " Lady Teazle," and " Violante," had displayed examples 
of courtly elegance and versatile vivacity, to which no other 
votary of Thalia had aspired on the American stage ; while 
her " Rosalind" for the playfulness of its wit, claimed the 
same unprecedented rank, which was assigned to her " Portia," 
for its graceful and classick elocution. But " Estifania" is 
an arch, wheedling soubrette, a very I'ogue at heart, with a 
tongue of oil and pepper, a chambermaid, with the address 
of a courtier, and the head of a priine minister, a lady of no 
origin, but her wit, with no more gowns, than her flaunting 
mistress had cast off, yet with as many tricks as a roving 
captain, " in the full meridian of his wisdom," could put on ! 
In this subtle character, the ever shifting compound of con- 
trivance and repartee, Mrs. Oldfield and Mrs. Abbington 
have been, at different periods of the last century, eminently 
successful ; and Mrs. Stanley at the present day is, we think, 
the lawful heir of their honours. To follow her through the 
part, with a minute description of her diversity of action and 
peculiarity of conveyance, would be a task of too great an 
extent for this paper ; for the colours of this sarcastick, plot- 
ling character are always seen in constant variation, and evel^ 



364 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

sparkling in a new direction. A few quotations will suffice 
to illustrate the maturity of her conception, and the point of 
her manner. 

" Perez. My Estifania, shall we to dinner, lamb I 
I know thou siay'st for me. 
^'■Estif. (ivith 'Wheedling fondness ) I cannot eat else. 

Again, (with unconcerned simfilicitij :) 

'■^Estif. We must yield our house unto her for four days. 

^'■Perez. Aye — if easily it would come back ? 

^^Estif. I swear, Sir, as easily, as it came on ; 
You give atvay no house 1" 

Her utterance of the last line conveyed very insidiously 
and forcibly to the audience, though unperceived by Perez, 
the latent double meaning of the author. The arch impostor 
was laughing at the cozened captain through the thin veil of 
the equivocal sense. In the same scene, 

" Pray ye walk by and say nothing ; 

Only salute them ; and leave the rest to me. 
I was born to make ye a man !" 

Perez replies with truth " the witty rogue speaks heartily.'^ 

The same crafty expression and cajoling leer appeared 
in the following passage : 

^^ Perez. Pray ye take heed unto \\xq furniture^ 
None be embezzled. 

^^Estif. ^ot a PIN, I warrant ye." 

This reply was instant, and was made with the important 
look of a careful housewife. The subtilty and security of her 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 365 

deception, throughout these two acts, were expressed with 
fine comick pungency. 

The whole scene in the fourth act, we have before remarked, 
was most highly finished. The humour and retort of the dia- 
logue were in constant motion, and addressed with well-aimed 
activity. We need not go into recital, except in one instance, 
in which, the effect of the vis comica had a subtlety of opera- 
tion, which eludes description : 

tiPcrez. Why, am I cozened ? 

^^Estif. Why, am I abused ? 

'■'■Perez. Thou most vile, base, abominable— 

^^Estif. Cafitain ! 

^^Perez. Thou incorrigible — ■ 

^^Estif. Captain! 

^'■Perez. Do you echo me ? 

^'■Estif. Yes, Sir, and go before ye too,and round about ye" &c. 

Her shi'ewd, biting caution to "Cacofogo," has the features 
of the same family of sarcasm : 

"All secrecy she would desire,— she told me, 
How — WISE— z/oM are J" 

We observed a deviation of memory in one speech, which, 
however, was too promptly supplied to affect the sense or 
spirit of the scene. The incident of the pistol was very 
ingeniously managed, and bore its expected proportion of 
merit to the other parts of the character. With the review 
of these three personages, the labour of criticism ends in this 
play. 



366 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

* "In angustiis amicus." 

The desertion of the Drama by its former friends, during 
the greater portion of the present season, will never induce 
us, on perceiving this " rub in its fortunes," to abandon its 
cause to the caprice of the unlettered, or the folly of the fash- 
ionable ; nor to commit its destiny to the perversity of party, 
the altivolancy of tumblers, or the eloquence of ventriloquism. 
We are deeply impressed vi^ith the belief, that the theatre is 
highly important to society, as a great publick school, in which 
all classes may assemble, to acquire mutual respect from 
examples of good breedmg, to cultivate morality fi-om the 
delineations of life, to enliven social humour from the vivacity 
of fiction, and to imbibe correct ideas of classick reading and 
of our native tongue from striking instances, however rare, 
of the force of elocution and purity of pronunciation. That 
many of these valuable purposes of the Drama have lately 
been obscured, in the mist of infatuation, even from the view 
of those, whose refinement ought to have seen and appreci- 
ated them, cannot be denied with truth, nor confessed without 
a blush. But 

" Wit cannot fall so fast, as folly rises ; 

Witness the Circus ; filled at double prices 1 

While Fashion, bright and short-lived, as the rocket. 

Flies to hear children squeal in Rannie's pocket ; 

Spurning wliat Shakespeare wrote, and Garrick played, 

It crowds to see a Mameluke parade ; 

And shoutSj when le Vanqueure drinks lemonade !" 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 367 

The perfoi'mance of Shakespeare's historical play of Henry- 
fourth, on Wednesday evening, excited critical expectation, 
and attracted a numerous audience, as well from its numbei*- 
less beauties, which " custom cannot stale," as from the 
extraordinary combination of talent in the personation of 
" Hotspur," and " Falstaff." This play, ever since its first 
production in 1598, has uniformly been considered as a mas- 
terpiece of the dramatick art, in that species of writing, which, 
from its commixture of tragedy and comedy, requires the most 
skilful management in the necessary inter vol vement of plot, in 
the preservation of a regular action, in rendering the episodes 
subservient to the main purpose of tlie fable, and in exhibiting 
by a judicious and successive contrast, the most peculiar atti- 
tudes and prominent features of the opposite orders of beings, 
whom it represents. It may be added, that this play, in that 
perpetual progression of the action, which results from an inge- 
nious congruity in the double plot, is inferiour only to the 
" Merchant of Venice," which, for this singular beauty of 
dramatick construction, has stood unrivalled for more, than two 
centuries. Dryden aimed at the model of this great original, 
in his " Spanish Fryar ;" but no critick has ever allowed his 
claim to competition. 

Of the performance of this play we are not at leisure to 
prepare an elaborate analysis. But although our remarks, 
from their necessary brevity and general description, may lack 
of critical estimation, we shall endeavour to pay the debt of 
courtesy, so decidedly due to "Hotspur" and "Lean Jack." 



368 THEATRICAL CTlITirTSMS. 

" Harry Percy," if we may credit the ■jiicls:raer(t of some 
observers, did not rise to the level of Mr. Cooper's general 
merit; although it is allowed to have ou stripped all his pre- 
decessors in the part. This decision, like most others of the 
same stamp, is too general to be correct, and too dogmatick 
to be respected. In our opinion, after a long and impartial 
debate between the claims of his representation and that of 
others, " seeing what we have, seen — seeing what we saw"—' 
and after comparing his ima^e of the character with the 
descri/ition of his author, the " Hotspur" of Mr. Cooper, 
though not equal in all the parts of its configuration, was 
remarkably definite and bold in the outline of its conception, 
and was very frequently produced in high relief by exquisite 
touches of characteristick execution. The indignant spirit 
that could not cower to insu't, the proud honour of old Eng- 
lish nobility, emblazoned with the trophies of fame, yet sullied 
with the rashness of courage ; the impetuous and unpaltering 
avowal of his adherence to the unfortunate Mortimer, and the 
ambitiovis visions of the aspiring rebel, goaded by royal ingrat- 
itude, and writhing at the touch of disgrace ; were all strikingly 
disposed in the character, and embodied in the fore-ground 
of the picture. His excellence was generally that of Hotspur 
himself; of so rapid a march, that we have no time to trans- 
fuse his manner into a quotation. 

Some passages, however, from their universal impression, 
it will require no extraordinary critical acuteness to aclcct. 
The speech. 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 369 

« I do remember when the fight was done" he. &c. was 
littered with Percy's fire, du-ected by the most accurate dis- 
crimination. And we cite as another example of the higher 
flights of scenick delineation : 

" Methinks it were an easy leap, 

To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon." &c. 

Instances might be multiplied, such as his testy mortifica- 
tion and resentment at the revolt of some of his " crafty-sick" 
friends, Sec. to support the general position, on which we have 
rested our decision. But enough has been said. One fault 
was occasionally conspicuous, which we had not expected of 
Mr. Cooper. " In the tempest of passion," he did not always 
*' bcgeta tem]^erance of speech." Hotspur is mad with choler, 
but his representative should not be choaked with it. Yet in 
all other cases, which we recollect, it has been the peculiar 
praise of Mr. Cooper to have escaped from this errour. We 
have often thought him without a rival in all passages, in which 
the passion of the scene requires a vehement rapidity of utter- 
ance, united to uncommon distinctness and energy of articu- 
lation. 

In the whole gallery of Shakespeare's characters, there is no 
comick , personage, which can break a lance with " Jack 
Falstaff." His protuberances of wit are like his " mountain 
of flesh." In either case, no one else can walk in his doublet 
and hose 1 " Lear," in tragedy, is not more a chef d' xuvre^ 
than the fat knight of Gad's hill is, in comedy. Without revert- 
ing to any former attempts at this part, which among the best 
actors is allowed to be a trial of skill, we shall award to Mr. 
47 



3T0 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

Harwood an almost unqualified approbation ; and it is not the 
smallest portion of his praise, that he preserved entire the vol- 
ume of his voice amid all the inflexions and transitions of that 
capricious modulation, which the character requires. The 
celebrated passage, 

" Do you think I did not know ye" ts'c. 
was given with inimitable effect. With this may be ranked 
the soliloquy on honour, and the admirable burlesque manage- 
ment of the fight. The convulsive roar of the audience was, 
on this occasion, a better criticism, than covild be collected 
from the most classick notes of laborious commentators, who 
■might, as usual, 

" O'er Shakespeare's page their poring vigils Iceep, 
To catch at words, and, catching, fall asleep." 
The other parts were not recommended to notice by ariy 
distinction of merit. 



^' I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed. 

And fight maliciously; and in that mood. 

The dove will peck the estridge ; there is hope in't yet ; 

I and my sword will earn our chronicle.*' 

J. HE tragedy of " Venus Preserved," though its beauties 
have become trite and its attraction diminished by repetition, 
was performed on Wednesday evening, to an audience not 
only numerous and fashionable, but certainly the most critical, 
wliich, within our recollection, has ever been assembled withia 
the walls of the theatre. 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S71 

This, we believe, was produced by an unexampled concur- 
rence of individual effort; an unprecedented emulation of 
talent, to rendpo^tie efficiency and justice to one of the bi'ightest 
poetick ornaments of the English drama. We are not, how- 
ever, on this account, inclined to relax our judgment to the 
extravagance of eulogy, nor to submit its reins to the prede- 
lection of opinion. We are well aware, that when criticks 
feed on party, 

" They eat the sword, they fight with." 

The plot of " Venice Preserved," is borrowed from the 
Abbe de St. Rael's ^'•Histoire de la conjuration de Marquis 
Bedetnar" which relates the circumstances of the Spanish 
conspiracy at Venice. This author is called, by Voltaire, 
the French Sallust ; and some of the speeches of " Renault" 
to the conspirators are as correctly copied from the Abbe, as 
any one of Shakespeare's " Volumnia" is from North's Plu- 
tarch, or of his "Queen Catharine" from Hollinshed. It is 
remarkable, that, though this play has been, for nearly one 
hundred and thirty years, a distinguished favourite of the 
publick, from its interesting incidents and affecting catastrophe, 
it has been always justly reproached with the charge that 
it does not contain one "truly valuable character, except 
Belvidera," and even she is not faultless ! Yet such is the 
power of genius to give immortality to its own works, that 
this dramatick poem will probably be coeval with the English 
tongue ; and, still blooming in its fame, unwithered in its 
attraction, by all the blighting cavils of criticism, will continue 
to convey, to successive generations, the strong and varying 



S72 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

impulses of human passion, whether corrupted by ambition, 
seduced by sensibility, or disgraced by shame, while revenge, 
and love, and contrition, alternately fill, and at^'j-gj^te, and shrowd 
the theatre of the human mind. 

To the performance of this play the motto, we have select- 
ed, has a pointed reference. That the emanations of talent 
are brightened by competition, who will deny ? and, on this 
evening, after witnessing probably the best representation 
ever seen in America, the universal suffrage gave due token 
of the impression, it had made. 

Messrs. Cooper and Fennell were the rival candidates for 
the wreath of Thespian victory ; and the combined effect of 
their talents was very powerfully assisted by the " Belvidera" 
of Mrs. Stanley. In this, as in all contentions of a similar 
nature, the spirit of party was on the alert ; a divided senti- 
ment prevailed which was wholly repugnant to impartiality of 
judgment ; the " Tros Rotulusve" was alone considered ; 
and the applause, as it was more frequent and boisterous, than 
a strict sobriety of taste could warrant, was also as often lav- 
ished from courtesy, and misplaced from folly, as educed by 
excellence, and awai'ded by justice. Every artifice of the 
stage was rounded with a peal of raptui^e. Mr. Cooper could 
not swell his fine melodious voice to the " top of its compass," 
■without a responsive thunder from the house ; nor could Mr. 
Fennell extend his " many a rood of limb," in two gigantick 
strides from one stage door to the other, but the most learned 
"million" beat their palms with ecstacy and exclaimed, 
«« Whaf an admirable reader i" We have not indulged tliis 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS;> 37a 

vein of sarcasm to ridicule the exertion of eminent talents, 
which has so justly "earned its chronicle ;" but to expose 
to merited contempt that fashionable affectation, that 
most excellent foppery of taste, which has of late usurped the 
balance and the rod of criticism, among our full grown babes 
©f learning, who have suddenly become commentators on 
playing, by going to school at thirty to learn their mother 
tongue ; and have formed an intimate acquaintance with au- 
thors, by spelling their names on labels at the backs of their 
volumes ! Without knowing the distinction in terms between 
pi'onunciation, emphasis and reflexion, yet with the aid of a 
little effrontery in a side box, and a well-committed rosary of 
words, which they use in succession without choice or con- 
nexion, they acquire a frothy reputation for classical wisdom, 
which at once gives tone and circulation to their opinions, 
tliroughout the wide range of the shallow profundity of polite 
life ! What a facility of literary education ! Why it were a 
device worth the experiment, if a patent might be obtained 
for it ; the market women in the publick streets of Athens 
repeated lines from Homer, while they sold apples and filberts ; 
then wherefore should not the discipline of a tailor and a frizeur 
make as good a commentator of a beau, as the perusal of 
Malone, Johnson or Walker ! This process too would pre- 
vent a great many fruitless head aches, would keep down the 
price of calf skin, and would save the expense and trouble of 
learning to read ! What a crop of connoisseurs should we 
have ; they would grow up, like the dragon's teeth, and de- 
stroy themselves for the amusement of their wits 1 This then 



S/4 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

will be the very millenium of letters, when taste shall be re- 
duced under the dommion of fashion, and 

" The fop, the flirt, the pedant, and the dunce. 
Start up, (God bless us !) criticks all at once !" 

From this little episode of pleasantry, in which we have 
sported rather freely with the frivolous importance of our 
new race of theatrical virtuosos, we return to the more con- 
genial and gratifying task of rendering to genius the due 
reward of its exertions. 

Of the professional contest, between Mr. Cooper and Mr. 
Fennell, we shall not, upon the brief survey of one evening's 
exhibition, pronounce an opinion, which shall decisively award 
to either the palm of pi^e-eminence. We might easily run a 
parallel between their respective claims and properties. In 
the natural gifts and requisites of an actor, Mr. Cooper has 
never had a competitor on the American stage ; and in good 
sooth it must be said, that " speech famed" Fennell has gath- 
ered much lore at the feet of Cratippus. But general conclu- 
sions conduce nothing to critical information. Whichever 
scale may preponderate, either of the combatants may retort 
on the other, in the words of Ajax : 

"Ipse tulit pretium jam nunc certamlnis hujus. 
Qui, cum victus erit, Mecum certasse feretur !" 

As there are two other nights, in which their prowess in, 
dramatick chivalry, is to be exercised, we shall withold our 
examen of their respective beauties and defects, both in elocu- 
tion and in action, until the lists shall be closed. One re- 
mark we shall now make, that Mr. Fennell, who prides him- 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 575 

$elf on his scholastick " vis et venustas et ordo verborum,'* 
acquired on this occasion no distinction beyond his antagonist, 
in the severer graces of eloquence ; although, in some brilliant 
moments of personation, he w^ent beyond any former effort of 
his own. It should be recollected, that he had to contend 
against many glaring natural disabilities for the character of a 
dramatick lover ; a voice, obstinately sepulchral, a face, in- 
capable of the lineaments of tenderness, a ponderous and 
overvirhelming gesticulation, and an awkward majesty and 
indecision of movement ; the whole exhibiting rather a false 
fulness, than a definite expression of sentiment. Yet, against 
all this host of incapacity, his ambition bore up its beaver 
proudly ; and relying on his genei-al knowledge of poetick 
effect on human passions, and his unwavering consciousness 
of his own classick maturity of speech and conception, he 
struck out many sparks of excellence, and stole many touches 
from nature ; and in the general award, gathered with an un^ 
resisted hand, some luxuriant leaves of bay, which will long 
be green, as amaranth, from the tears of sensibility, with which 
they were bedewed. With this tribute, however, we must 
mingle the reproof of some passages of misre citation, for 
which Mr. Fennell has no right to expect any indulgence, 
and which, therefore, a future number will expose. 

We feel a reluctance to speak of Mr. Cooper's " Pierre," 
in contrast to Mr. Fennell's " Jaffier," fi'om this very suf- 
ficient reason, that, in this disposition of the paits, nature has 
pronounced her inhibition against the one, and has given her 
amplest commission to the other. Every actor has peculiar 



376 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

habitudes of gesticulation, speech and expression ; in all these, 
Cooper is moulded and fashioned into " Pierre ;" and beyond 
these, which ai'e great and striking endowments, he is emi- 
nently happy in transfusing the soul of his author into the 
character of his action. We do not believe this bold, ingen- 
uous, generous, affectionate rebel was ever personated with 
more propriety, fire or discrimination, on the boards of Lon- 
don. In the scene with the conspirators, after the discovery of 
" Renault's" letcherous breach of trust, it may be truly said, he 

" Lurched all swords of the garlands'." 
He had one errour in his speech to the senate, which we shall 
notice in a subsequent commentary. 

Mrs. Stanley's " Belvidera" was the best tragick perform- 
ance of this lady in Boston. The beautiful poetick flight, 
inspired by the prospective banishment and ruin of her hus- 
band, was uttered with the most delightful chastity and ten- 
derness. Her exit in the third act : 

'''■Farewell^ remember tivelve .'" 
w^as delivered with greater purity and impression, than by Mrs. 
Warren ; though she shared, in common with that admired 
performer, the censure of two misreadings in the following 
scenes. Her greatest pi'aise, however, was, that she had evi- 
dently benefitted by the admonitions of criticism, and, through- 
out the whole character, confined her voice within the com- 
pass of its own natural modulation and power. In comedy, 
she needs no monitor. 

The play altogether, was the best representation, which the 
Boston stage has ever afforded us. 



Theatrical CRrricisivis, 377 



* If they be free, 

Why then om- taxing', like a wild goose, flies 
Unclaimed of any man." 

In this and a few subsequent numbers, we shall aim to give an 
accurate surveyof someof the more characteristick distinctions 
of performance in the two American competitors for the chair of 
Rosclus. Hence we shall frame, in the spirit of impartiality, 
attempted with what little judgment we possess, a comparative 
estimate of their classical and professional merits. 

On this subject, we shall generally premise, that Mr. Fen- 
nell's confessed reputation, as a scholar, and as an actor, does 
not " bear an equal yoke ;" and that Mr. Cooper is not so 
much indebted for liis fame to the mere bounty of nature, as 
some have been willing to imagine ; but owes to erudition the 
establishment of that pre-eminence, which has been exclusively 
assigned to the incidental properties of person and voice. If 
the former may sometimes excel in arranging, in just propor- 
tion, the lineaments of a whole character, it may with equal 
candour and justice be allowed, that the latter seldom fails to 
shed a superiour lustre on the execution of particular passages. 

Within our recollection, the publick curiosity has not been 
so highly excited, as by the collision of talent, which the vicis- 
sive assumption of " Othello," and " lago," produced between 
Mr. Cooper and Mr. Fennell. Of their respective personations 
of each character, we do not intend to give a description at full 
length, but we shall touch on those points in their several pic- 
48 



378 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

tures, which will induce a recognition of the likeness. And 
first of the Moor. 

" The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and 
credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affection, 
inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate • in his I'evenge ;" 
demands, perhaps, more requisites from nature, to bestow ade- 
quate illustration on his glowing variety of character, than any 
other heroick, personage, that " struts and frets his hour ufion 
the stage" In physical aptitudes, Mr. Cooper had the evident 
advantage of Mr. Fennel], yet he often untuned his voice bj' 
violence ; while Mr. Fennell, who prefers high and honoured 
claims to the magistracy of elocution, in some instances wan- 
dered from the true sense and conception of his authors. 

In the celebrated address to the Senate, it was apparent 
that neither party was insensible to the spirit of emulation. As 
this whole speech, with all its successions of dignity and pas- 
sions, lies upon the level @f Mr. Fennell's natural power, we 
were not surprised to find him excel Mr. Cooper in the gen- 
eral outline of the oration. Mr. FennelFs manner was " plain 
and unvarnished ;" and, if we except his ungi-aceful gesticula- 
tion, was sufficiently eloquent for a man, 

" rude in speech, 

And little blessed with the set phrase of peace ;" 
but the style of Mr. Cooper had too much Ciceronian refine- 
ment, too much artificial polish, for the warriour who says of 
himself, 

" little of this great world can I speak. 

And therefore little shall I grace my cause, 

By speaking for my self. ^^ 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S79 

Yet, however, near the climax of his story, Mr. Cooper 
wonderfully surpassed his antagonist, by substituting an emi- 
nent beauty of delineation, for a most strange misconception 
of Mr. Fennell. 

" She wished she had not heard it ; yet she wished 
That heaven had made her such a man : She thanked me ; 
And bade me, if I had a friend, that loved her, 
I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
And that would woo her." 

This) it should be observed, is the first, timid, half-concealed 
confession of love, on the part of " Desdemona ;" and was 
admirably pourtrayed by Mr. Cooper, with the most expressive 
traits of modesty and tenderness ; and yet without departing 
from the severity of declamation. Mr. Fennell, however, ranted 
in a tone of exultation and triumph, as it were at the success 
of his romantick fable over the simple mind of Desdemona. 
We cannot conceive of any representation of the passage more 
grossly out of character. Othello breaks into no expression 
of elevated joy, until he utters the subsequent sentence, whose 
relative effect lost its contrast by this premature extravagance 
of action ; and thus was weakened the impression, commonly 
produced by the transport of " Othello," when he exclaims : 

" She loved 7ne for the dangers, I had passed, 
And J loved her, that she did pity them. 
In the exclamatory passage, 

" Silence that dreadful bell ; it frights the isle 
From her propriety" 



380 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

Mr. Cooper's clear and swelling voluine of intonation had a 
fine scope for its exercise, and it filled the house with a peal 
of melody ; but in 

" Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore ; 
Be sure on't ; give me the occular proof," Sec. 
he strained his voice beyond its limits, until it cracked into a 
shrill discordance, which pained the sternest ear. Mr. Fennel! 
in the same two passages wanted fire ; but, having a limited 
compass and difficult modulation of voice, he was not tempted 
to commit the ambitious fault of Mr. Cooper. If he was not 
admired for Othello's ardour, his own deliberation guai'ded him 
against offence, 

Mr. Fennell we think adopted the preferable emphasis in 
the following contested interjectional speech : 

^' Excellent wretch ! perdition catch my soul. 
But I do love thee l' ' 

Mr. Cooper, against the opinion of the elder Sheridan, laid 
the stress on " love."- 

Mr. Cooper was powerfully impressive in the following 
transition oi intermingled suspicion and deprecation : 

" If thou dost slander her, and torture me, 

Never /zray more, Sec. &c. 

******* 

For nothing canst thou to damnation aed. 
Greater than that" 

Mr. Fennell gave the same construction, but not with the 
same boldness of execution. Indeed, throughout, Mr. Feur 
jell's general defect was an iincharacteristick tameness. He, 



TFIEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 381 

was too affectedly chaste', too tristfully correct. His colours 
were sufficiently diluted for " Marcus Brutus." 

In illustrating the learning of Shakespeare, or rather in 
giving poetical effect to his images, we could discern one 
instance in which we thought Mr. Cooper was more apt, than 
Mr. FennelL 

" If I do prove her haggard, 

Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, 
To firey at fortune" 

This is a metaphor, borrowed fi-om falcionry. " The Falconers, 
says, Dr. Johnson, always let fly the hawk against the wind ; 
if she flies with the wind behind her, she seldom returns. If, 
therefore, a hawk was, for any reason, to be dismissed, she 
was " let dotvn the wind ;" and from that time shifted for 
herself, and ^^ preyed at fortune." This allusion, Mr. Cooper 
strikingly exemplified, by making the word " down" emphat- 
ick, and by a well-conceived and picturesque gesticulation. 
But Mr. Fennell, destroyed the figure, by irrevelant gesture, 
and by laying the emphasis on " wind." 

Both were equally deficient in the necessary scenick prepv 
aration of mind and action, to give effect, or sense to, 

" It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul." 
The actor began as abruptly, as the soliloquy ; no room was 
given to imagine the previous perturbation and horrour of 
Othello's mind, which though it could not be shaken by the 



382 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

atrocity of the crime, he was about to commit, was yet stung 
with shame by the " cause" which led him to it. 
To the tender expostulation of Desdemona, 
" Am / the occasion of those tears, my Lord ? 

* * ** * * ♦ * * 

Lay not your blame on me ; if you have lost him, 

7 have /o«? him too." 

Othello makes no reply, but utters, in agonized soliloquy, the 

bursting sorrows and indignant nobleness of his soul. In this 

moment of the character, Mr. Cooper rose above cavil, and 

defied competition : 

" Had it pleased heaven 

To try me with affliction ; had he rain*d 

All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head ; 

Steefi'd me in fioverty to the very lifis s 

Given to captivity — me and my hopes ; 

" I should have found, in some part of my soul, 

A drofi of PATIENCE : 

But there — where I had garner'd up my heart." Etc. 

It may be said here of Mr Cooper, that his sensibility evi- 
dently affected his exterior deportment. Nature spoke from 
her " heart's core ;" and the actor's accents harmonized with 
the most touching tones of instinctive pathos. No sophistication 
of rhetorick could have produced the same tremblingly living 
sensation. 

In the bed-chamber scene, Mr. Fennell gave the monition to 
Desdemona with affecting solemnity : 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 383 

*^' Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by ; 
I would not kill thy unfirefiared spirit i 
No — heaven for ef end /—I would not A:///—- thy soul I 

We were not perfectly satisfied with either of them in the 
delivery of the following remarkable line— 

" Put out the lights and then — Put out the light !" 
This reading is obviously correct, as it intimately concatenates 
with the reflection which follows. 

In the first hemistick, we must imagine Othello wrapped 
up in his murderous intent, speaking in a careful, yet 
determined under tone, and striding, like a fiend, towards the 
perpetration of his design : 

" Put out the lights and then" 

here, either fi-om affection combating with revenge, or con- 
science for a moment repealing his purpose by abrupt com- 
punction, he suddenly becomes irresolute, revolts from his 
course, and starts into that expressive apostrophe : — 

« Put OUT the light 1" 

Instantly the dormant moral principle arouses, and he proceeds: 

*' If I quench thee.^ thou flaming minister, 
1 can again ihy former light restore^ 
Should I refient me : but once^ put out thine,* — 
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, — ■ 
I know not ivhere is that Promethean fire, 
That can thy light relume." 

This conception forcibly illustrates the true course of reflec- 
tion in the strongly agitated, and half relenting mind of Othello. 
But we saw no distinct marks of it on the stage. 



384. THEATRICAL CllITICISMS. 

On the whole, we have foi*merly seen the performance ot 
the same character, by the same gentlemen, marked with more 
studious correctness, and brighter excellence. 



" Quid verum atque decens, euro ; et omiiis In hoc sum. 

******* 

NuUius addictus jurare in verba magistri." 

J. HE character of " lago" has three aspects, which, in 
correct representations, mark through all his varieties of 
hypocrisy, that " cool malignity of the villain, silent in his 
resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his 
interest and his vengeance." To "Othello," his insinuating- 
frankness and reluctant disclosures constantly present, by 
fair seeming, the illusion of "exceeding honesty;" to "Roderigo" 
he is a politician of another school, and under pretence of help- 
ing him to the love of " Desdemona," he " makes his fool 
his purse ;" but in his soliloquies he entirely throws off the 
mask, and exulting in the success of the " candy deal of 
courtesy," which he has practiced on his dupes and victims, 
he is bold enough in crime to exclaim : 

" Divinity of hell ! 

When devils will the blackest sins put on. 
They do suggest at first, with heavevly shotvs^ 
■As I do iioiv" 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S85 

By this delineation of the different features of " lago" it 
will readily be perceived, that his scenick representative should 
possess, among other requisites, a countenance of bold outline 
and marked configuration ; capable of great complacency as 
well, as power and flexibility of oppression ; constantly chang- 
ing with the calculating purpose of the soul ; and exhibiting 
in succession the secure effrontery of imposition, the knotted 
corrugation of revenge, and the insidious protestation of friend- 
ship. 

In this definition of the pi'operties of " lago's" visage, we 
have been the more precise, as Mr. Fennell is always sure 
to sink, as a competitor of Cooper, in all characters, which 
demand a definite intelligence of countenance. There is a 
medium between vacancy and expression, which denotes mind, 
but does not depict its conceptions ; which exhibits the mus- 
cle, but not the feature of intellect. The " human face divine" 
can appear to think, though it does not illustrate its thoughts. 
In this middle state of perfection, we place the scenick ability 
of Mr. Fennell. To his genius, learning and taste we pay 
a willing and ample tribute ; but, if we consider the effect of 
his talent on the senses, or, in other words, his power of organick 
communication, we must be permitted in the confession, that 
we doubt his capacity to make, from the stage, a deep and 
correct impression of any passion, except that which forms 
the leading characteristick of " Zanga." Here it must be 
allowed, that in expressing the turbulent sense of indignity at 
the prostration of princely honour, he displayed a bold and 
savage majesty, in which his force of delineation for pnce 
49 



386 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

ranked with his vigour of conception. This notice is awarded 
to Mr. Fennell with a spirit of independence, which gives it 
value ; and, we trust, with a maturity of reflection, which will 
give it currency. Mr. Fennell has now retired from the 
stage ; and, in his new profession, we wish he may receive 
the patronage of the affluent, and satisfy the judgment of the 
classical. This optative mode of expression, is not intended 
to convey any doubts of the merits of Mr. Fennell, and recom- 
mending, as we do, his infant institution to the protection of 
the property and sense of the community, we shall add, in 
the severity of truth, that if his laudable enterprise be suffered 
to pine away amid neglected promises of heedless ignorance, 
or forgetful grandeur, the boasted wealth and literature of our 
metropolis, which have added so gorgeous an embellishment 
to the habiliments of our pride, should henceforth be con- 
demned to keep company with their owners' hearts, in the 
dark and hermit corners of society. But to return.— The 
petulent puerility, and bombastick nonsense of some of Mr. 
Fennell's admirers would provoke retort, and deserve it, were 
we not convinced that Mr. Fennell himself would most wil- 
lingly exchange the panegyiick of such leading-string scrib- 
blers for their abuse. Yet they all write in a most goodly 
buckram style, and in terms of art measured by the rood ! 
One of these sesquipedalian witlings has rifled Johnson's 
Rambler of all its verbal invention, its flounces and furbelows 
of style, to decorate and bedizen Mr. Fennell in his principal 
characters. After twisting and distorting the King's English 
into every possible agony of meaning, he invents a new term 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 587 

in prosody, to make his Roscian hero take leave of the stage 
in " valedictory verse 1" nay, more, ehetc ! Onus deflenduni ! 
he retires " with the gratitude of his mother tongue 1" The 
inventor of the compass, the founder of printing, or the dis- 
coverer of the circulation of the human blood, sink at once, in 
the scale of original genius, before this mysterious magician 
of words, this jackalent constructor of luminous sentences, 
whose light attracts, but never can be followed. How fugitive 
is the bright imposture ; it flashes, and is enveloped in deeper 
darkness from its own explosion. Dulness,, like vanity, always 
mistakes its element. 

"Optat ephippia bos piger ; optatarare caballus." 

In strictness of critical justice, Mr. Fennell is as absolutely 
amenable to the comment of the di'amatick censor, though 
protected by the honoured title of a preceptor of elocution, 
as the most inferiour member of the histrionick profession. Yet 
as the severity of criticism has its only apology in the hope of 
correction, and this salutary object can no longer be fairly 
proposed, since his voluntary secession from the stage, we are 
constrained, by the double tie of duty and inclination, to abstain 
from disquisition, which can no longer be useful, and to 
smother reproof, the candour of whose motive may now be 
subject to question. It remains, however, to be stated, that 
in the part of " lago" our unequivocal preference went along 
with Mr. Cooper fier totum agmen. In correctness, or force of 
reading, we scarcely know to whom the balance would incline. 
But one or two diversities of emphasis occurred, and none of 
interpretation. The differences were immaterial, and only 



388 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

such, as the incidental lapses of performance might occasioir.^ 
For the distinctions were all of manner in the personation of 
the character, in its varieties of address to the other persons 
of the drama, with whom it was necessarily intermingled. 
Here, indeed, the merit of the representation belongs most 
eminently to Mr. Cooper. In the conduct of the scenes, his 
subtle honesty to Othello, his imposing assurance to Roderigo, 
and his deadly malignity in soliloquy, were more deeply- 
imbued with discrimination, "form and pressure." The 
colours were applied with a bolder pencil, and the lines were 
traced with a stronger character. Nature has denied to Mr. 
Fennell the use of such powerful means, as Mr. Cooper can 
employ prodigally, without exhausting them. In the economy 
of the stage art and situation, Mr. Cooper was wonderfully su-* 
periour. Yet, if we drop the curtain, and consider the exhibition 
as a mere didactick example of recitation, Mr. Fennell does 
not halt behind his antagonist. 

But this subject has lost its novelty, and of course its in- 
terest. It is time it should be dropped. To Mr. Fennell, as 
a learned and meritorious instructor of the rising generation, 
we Avould say, '■'■Proceed and jirosfier ;" and to Mr. Cooper, 
as the acknowledged Roscius of the American stage, we 
would snatch a grace from Churchill to exclaim, 

" ....Garrick, take the cliair, 

Nor quit it, 'till thou place an equal there !" 
As this is an age in which regicides prosper, the mock 
jmonarchs of the buskin must not be surprised, if for a moment 
we forget their kingly prerogative, and " scant our breathing 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS, 389 

courtesy." If it were not high treason against taste, aye 
"most infinite high," we would most valiantly affirm, that 
both of these imperial dignities of noun and pronoun, had in 
the plentitvide of their royal authority over the parts of speech, 
most tyrannically laid an improper emphasis on an humble 
monosyllable in one of their subject sentences ! The passage 
may perhaps admit of a questionable reading, and compares 
with a contested one in the " Merchant of Venice." But we 
eondemn them both. Our first allusion is to the expression 
of " lago," fiercely ruminating on the source of his resent- 
ment against the Moor : 

"And nothing can, or shall content my soul, 
Till I am even with him, wife ybr wife." 

We have marked the line as pronounced by Messrs. 
Cooper and Fennell ; and although we frankly confess there 
are instances, in which the evident sense of the author " allots 
emphatick state" to monosyllables, y?t we cannot, with our 
utmost ingenuity, discern the propriety of the stress in the 
quotation. We noticed the occurrence of a similar false 
emphasis in " Portia's" celebrated speech on mercy, which 
we the more regretted, as Mrs. Stanley, with this exception, 
presented to the audience, on this occasion, one of the most 
chaste and classical specimens of declamation, we have ever 
witnessed on the stage. Yet she erroneously uttered, 

" 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest." 

To be brief in our exposition of errour, we will correct both 
readings at once. Both sentences require the greatest possi- 



3^0 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

ble weight and body of expression ; and this, we think, is most 
fojcibly given by the following discrimination of voice : 

" Till I am even with him, ivife — for wife." 
So again, 

« 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest." 

Our judgment may be disputed, but we are confident it will 
bear the test of critical experiment. It should be added, that 
the rejected readings are consonant with the received modes 
of delivery in those passages. Criticism, however, submits 
to no prescription. Taste is truth, independent of the venera- 
tion allowed to time, or the prejudice born of opinion. Black- 
more was no poet, though he imitated Virgil in his hemisticks ; 
and a village lawyer may be no orator, though he have a wart 
on his cheek as large as two of Cicero's ! To performers of 
real eminence, emendatory criticism is the tribute of a mind, 
not disregardful of their excellence. That soil is not barren, 
which is worth the labour of tillage ; and while shrubs are 
neglected, the tree, whose beauty, thrift or fruit, most excites 
the hopes of the horticultor, is most assiduously pruned. 



•' Our scene is altered." 
Of the celebrated historical drama, " Pizarro," which, by the 
classick pen of Sheridan, has been adapted to the genius of 
English representation, the publick have already acquired so 
correct and intimate a knowledge, that to the American critick 
it may perhaps appear a rare example of managerial Super- 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 391 

erogation, to attempt to enlarge the sphere of its original 
attraction. When it is recollected, that the impressive merits 
of this play assembled twelve audiences during the last season, 
and would in all probability draw as many more if represented 
this season, it may be asked, why Mr. Whitlock, the present 
manager, should voluntarily incur so prodigal an expense, in 
its preparation, as the import of his publick advertisement, 
and the suggestion of well-credited rumour, have declared ? 
The answer is not so latent, as some may surmise. It is in 
evidence from the manager's whole direction of the stage, 
that he will never insult or delude the publick with an immoral 
or imbecile play ; but his is not a negative praise ; for he has 
also evinced, that, while he considers wit and sentiment the 
<' lawful lords" of the drama, he has not refrained from the 
expenses of spectacle, but has been anxious to assist the 
charms of the Muses with appropriate decoration. The play 
of " Pizarro" has hitherto acquired celebrity only by its own 
intrinsick claims ; with no other aid from the pencil, than an 
uncouth presentment of gorgeous colouring, and ill-managed 
perspective, which, while the eye was dazzled by the splendid 
imposture, bewildered the imagination in the search of nature 
and reality. As one of the manifest objects of the author was 
to render the play a vehicle of novel and magnificent scenery, 
an opportunity was now offered to the managers to present 
one of the most interesting dramas in the language, in a style 
more worthy of its original design. Scenick ornament, if so 
happily portrayed, and so scientifically arranged, as to produce 
visual illusion, impresses the boldest similitude of life on dra- 



392 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

matick representation, it embcdies the conception of the 
author, by giving to abstract sentiment " a local habitation." 
Upon the execution of this branch of the Thespian Art will 
very frequently depend the analogy, and sometimes the very 
efTect, of personation. Another object of Mr. Wliitlock, and 
which reflects as much honour on his liberality, as the first 
does on his taste, was to open a broad field of experiment for 
the scenick talent of Mr. Bromley, to exhibit in multifold effort 
its various creations. Mr. Bromley is a young man from 
Drury Lane theatre, and possesses real genius in his profes- 
sion. To prepare the scenery for "■ Pizarro" has been the 
labour of three months ; and, while on the one hand it is our 
•wish to render to the manager the distinction, which he merits 
for his publick spirit in this expensive, and, we hope not, pre- 
carious undertaking, we think it injustice not to add, that Mr. 
Bromley will amply deserve the praise of having furnished 
the Boston stage with the most correct and fascinating exhibi- 
tion, both of landscape and architecture, which its lamps ever 
illumined. 



J. HE revival of " Pizarro" in its present improved style, 
seems not only to have increased its own attraction, but to 
have recalled taste and fashion to the theatre. In a drama, 
which in its original design appears to have been so much 
devoted to the purposes of spectacle, and in the contexture of 



THEATPJCAL CRITICISMS. 393 

whose fable is introduced so small a portion of fact, which is 
not consistent with the chastity of history, it might have been 
expected that the interest of the play would be weakened, if 
not overlooked, and of course the field of impressive and bril- 
liant acting, improperly narrowed by a cynical expression of 
romance, or a superstitious sacrifice to scenery. Such might 
have been the expectation ; but it is not warranted by experi- 
ence. For though it v/ould be unjust in the highest degree to 
the talents and industry of Mr. Bromley, not to acknowledge 
the excellence of his exhibition, which we think was as fine a 
coufi d' ail as the Boston theatre ever presented, yet a com- 
ment, bearing no common import of praise, is certainly due 
on this occasion to a considerable number of the dramatick 
corps, who, perhaps catching fire from the sentiment of the 
scene, with which they were connected, excelled their ordinary 
exertions, and gave unusual effect to the representation. The 
contrivance of the plot is so exquisitely managed that, when 
well presented, the ingenuity of the fiction insinuates an inter- 
est as powerful, as that of real life, because for the moment it 
is believed, and more subtle, because it captivates by illusion. 
Of the peculiar merits of individual performers it would be 
improper to speak largely, without at the same time remark- 
ing on the defects of the representation. Criticism loaths 
indiscriminate praise as much, as she despises malignant cen- 
sure. But thence it does not follow that the writer of eveiy 
theatrical pai'agraph ought to notice every individual in a the- 
atre, " from the lowest point to the top of the compass," from 
50 



S94 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

the Roscius who enacts " Hamlet," down to his brother orator 
the carpenter, who plays the " Cock." Some criticks are 
indeed a great deal like the clerk of a militia com-pany on a 
parade day ; their whole duty consists in calling over the mus- 
ter roll of its members, without either examining their arms, 
or improving their discipline. 

On Mrs. Whitlock's " Elvira." we shall not remark ; for 
the talent, whose aspect is too brilliant to be gazed at with 
scrutiny, or whose elevation is too high for its blemishes to be 
discerned, while it humbles envy by its distance, diminishes 
praise by its brightness. 

Mr. Rutley has many of the indispensable requisites of a 
good actor ; and some, without which no advantages of edu- 
cation, voice or pei'son, can ever make a great one. The 
intonation of his voice, and the temper of his gesticulation are 
well adapted to that province of personation, wjiich he sustains 
in the theatre. But his distinguishing feature, and that, which 
will always make its impression on the publick, is the spirit of 
his conception, which combines a sensibility to the touches of 
life as well, as a judgment in the comprehension of character, 
without which the most boasted refinement, with all its affec- 
tation of scholastick superiority, will find its inanimate exertions 
lavished on an impassive publick. Mr. Rutley possesses this 
grand quality ; and if he is sometimes misled by its enthusi- 
asm from the natural tones of passion into those of turned 
declamation, the errour is more venal, than the studied want; 
of animation, the scientifick coldness, which freezes the heart 
by its torpidity, while it delights the mind with its correctjiess. 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 39§ 

We now come to Mr. Jones ; and, if we had leisure, we 
would set down to him. In the course of the season, fair occa- 
sion has been given to applaud this gentleman for the under- 
standing and accomplishment, he possesses ; and, from a justi- 
fiable delicacy, some plausible opportunities have been pre- 
sented to reprehend peculiarities, which he has the good sense, 
and the disposition to correct. Of " Alonzo," we shall only 
say, we have never seen him perform any part with so much 
spirit ; although we have never known him to fail in discrimi- 
nation. The key of his voice is not so well adapted to the 
monotony of phlegmatick narration, as to the variable expres- 
sion of the passions. Mr. Jones always conceives well, but he 
sometimes executes indifferently. Let him reflect on the 
success of his scene with ^' Pizarro," and i-emember that tal-. 
^nt so exerted will be always so rewarded. 



Careless to learn, who praise us, or condemn^ 
Unswayed by partial wit, or critick phlegm. 
We aim, ambitious, to retrieve the stage 
From errours, which obscured its weaker age ; 
But while we censure, or approve the scene. 
Praise is not friendship, nor is satire spleen. 

J. HE task of combining the scattered slips of theatrical excel- 
lence is to us, we confess, a work of more pleasure, than that 
of plucking the faded leaf, and pruning the excrescent branclv. 
The one is the exercise df taste, the otherthe injunction of duty- 



396 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

During the last week, Mr. Bernard has contmued to display 
the flexible powers of a great and discriminating actor, in 
the presentment of " many-coloured life." One of the most 
luminous traits of his merit is, that he marks, in his delinea- 
tion of characters, almost homogeneous, the minutest shades, 
in which they differ. Many comedians are too much in the 
habit of dashing the pound brush, and all, they aim to throw 
upon the canvass, is a dazzling confusion of the primary 
colours, without intermixture, gradation or lineament. The 
whole is illegitimate ; a picture without a likeness. It claims 
affinity to nothing, but one of Caliban's dreams ; and thus, 
having no human relations, it is not entitled to christian bap- 
tism. Not so with the designs of Mr. Bernai'd. His, if not 
the pencil of Titian, is at least that of Hogarth. While the 
bolder features are expanded with prominent effect, the soft- 
est lines of colouring and variation of conception, lines almost 
as delicate, as the horizon, that vanishes between the sea and 
the sky, are, in nice precision, gently touched in the correct 
shadowings of his execution. His clowns have as many dif- 
ferent patents of rank, as a herald's office has of the peerage : 
and, in fact, they all seem to know their own place as well, 
and show each other as much ceremony and respect. Being 
all exempted from the game laws, each sports upon his own 
manor, and holds it unworthy to poach upon that of his neigh- 
bour. "Gregory Gubbins" can laugh " till his face be like a 
wet cloak, ill laid up." "Caleb Wilkins" belongs to another 
family. His head is lean and sterile, yet has he been taught 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 39f 

Palstaff's " first human principle ; to forswear thin potations 
and addict himself to Sack." The character is not a sot, but 
his humour has a mellower tilth from having been husbanded 
and manured by " the excellent endeavour of drinking." In 
^' Two Strings to your Bow," the features of comedy ai'e 
again recomposed and re-moddled. " Lazarillo" is one of 
the most piquant knaves in the drama. None but his cousin 
german " Trappanti" can out-joke, out-wit, or out-eat him 1 
Again, Mr. Bernard changes the scene, deserts his motley 
companions, and assumes the courtly and arduous character 
of " Sir Peter Teazle." Undertaken, as we hear, at a study 
of two days only, it was repi'esented with a maturity of design, 
and a richness of drapery, worthy the industry and ingenuity 
of years. We have never seen the inimitable wit of this char- 
acter shine through so pellucid a medium. It suffered no 
blemish from interior imperfection, no divergency from an 
unpolished surface. It was chaste comedy ; as delicate, yet 
as beautiful as the tapestry of the Gobelins. 

On Wednesday evening, "George Barnwell," by young 
Whitlock. Of his application and ambition, what a woeful 
example is here I " Pity 'tis, 'tis true 1" What his conception 
of the character might have been, we know not ; for the 
youthful Roscius was so imperfect in the words of the author, 
that " Barnwell" seemed to us, like a fine child, stolen away 
by Gypsies, and stained with walnut juice to prevent detec- 
^on ! At least, the trick passed very well upon us, for the 
4ndentity of the person was kept a profound secret from our 



398 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

eyes. This stricture is due to talent itself, which should not 
be permitted to choak itself up with the briars of its own lux- 
uriance. Whatever may be the scope, or the vanity of gen- 
ius, true it is, the higher attainments of the stage, are the 
rewards only of severe industry and patient endeavour. If 
Mr. Whitlock would become eminent, he must consent to be 
instructed. He should beware, 

*'..........„.,. lest some impulse accursed 

Make him seize the wrong' end of his duty first ; 
And in vain seek for fame, by a traverse conceit. 
Like the Turk, who crawls into his bed at the feet." 

In " Milwood" Mrs. Barrett acquired great reputation, for 
soundness of judgment and strength of talent. Of this charac- 
ter the passions are violent, as the regrets of love, and the 
anathemas of vengeance, yet opposite, as the zephyr whisper- 
ing to the violet, and the whirlwind uprooting the oak. Her 
best scene suffered something in effect from the strumming 
" notes of preparation" sounded from the orchestra. This 
gross errour should be corrected ; for the last scene of many 
an act has been mutilated by such voluntary cadences and 
syncopations of Catgut, 

" Whose squeaks are as dissonant, grating and harsh. 
As a file rasping knots, or lewd frogs in a marsh." 

It is neither our purpose, nor our pleasure, to deal out to 
the publick a tissue of panegyrick, but to subtract the record 
of fame, where the lovely individual stands registered in ex- 
cellence is a ranker offence, than to leave " unannointed" a 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 399 

■Vv^hole tribe of demerit, "with all its imperfections on its 
head." 

Mrs. Jones, whose very self is melody, and whose sweet 
ballads m " Margaretta" could not derive a more touching 
charm, even from the lyre of Sappho, has preferred large 
, claims on the publick admiration, in a great variety of char- 
acter, where the comick spirit, unaided by vocal fascination, 
is left to exhibit its own powers in scenes of difficult interest 
and execution. Her " Donna Clara" is one of the happiest of 
these specimens ; and we trust the repetition of the farce, in 
which Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Jones so eminently excel, will, 
©n any night, increase the attraction of the theatre. 

This evening " The Voice of Nature" is again called foi* 
by the voice of the publick ; annexed to it is the Opera of the 
" Highland Reel," supported, perhaps, by the strongest cast- 
©f characters, which have ever assisted its representation in 
any part of America. Mr. Bernard is the " Shelty," and Mrs, 
Jones the " Moggy" of the evening. Surely the publick has 
an appetite for the luxuries of the scene, after all the refine- 
ments of an opposition. Else, they will never know " a hscwk 
from a handsaw." 



400 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 



1 HE dramatick persons in the cbmedy of " John Bull" re° 
quire an extensive range of talent. There are but few playsj 
which cannot be represented with a more limited variety of 
powers ; and the great and merited success of this piece, is 
no profitless tribute of thanks to our " lucky manager" for 
that diversity and strength of scenick ability, with which he has 
embellished and enriched the publick amusement. The best 
author's most favourite production may perish by stage suffo- 
cation, or tottle to death in a rickety representation. What 
is wit without its conductor ? Its flashes exhaust by excursion 
that fire, which direction would have vivified. Hence it is, 
the characters of most modern comedies are moulded for the 
actors, who are intended to personate them. American thea- 
tres have many performers of eminence, but it frequently hap- 
pens, that their force is not so embodied, as to sustain the 
weight of a popular English drama. The play may shoot 
vigorously in London, but will not take root here, and dies by 
transplantation. Such, however, has not been the fate of 
"John Bull ;" though it is certainly a comedy, which demands 
the more arduous and and multiform efforts of the scene. The 
representation of this play, with an individual exception, would 
honour any theatre. The design of it, is to exhibit one of the 
most prominent features of the English character ; the proud, 
robust honesty, and strong moral sensibility of the middle 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 401 

class of society. " Job Thornberry" is an English tradesman, 
of such principles and such feelings. Impatient in honour, 
as a peer ; yet assiduous in his occupation, as the humblest 
citizen. His character and his fortune have been the fruits 
of thirty years of equal benevolence and industry. Wealth 
and reputation have grown up along with him. He has an 
only child, a daughter. Job Thornberry is the very best of 
fathers. Mary has too much simplicity for so much loveliness. 
She is the victim of an illicit attachment. Job has a friend, 
who is in distress ; and with a nobleness of heart advances, for 
his relief, the Avhole earnings of his life. His friend absconds 
with the money ; and Job awakes on the morning, when the 
play opens, to find his house filled with bailiffs, and deserted 
by his daughter. Shame and the fear of a parentald iscovery 
of her indiscretion have driven her, unconscious of her father's 
misfortune, to an inhospitable and almost desert heath. But 
the parent nest is scarcely cold, before the little wanderer is 
restored to it. Many touching incidents, chaste, impressive 
sentiments, and festive ebullitions, crowd the action of the play« 
Its combinations of interest are so dexterously interwoven, 
that the audience is wound in with the tissue, before it per- 
ceives the charm, by which it has been snared. The fable 
finally restores Job to opulence, and gives to the grief-worn 
affections of Mary the honourable seal of wedded love. 

Such was " John Bull ;" and he was ably presented by Mr. 

Dickenson. It has lorg been our inteniion to notice this 

actor in a style of commendation, due to his rare talent, highly 

improved and polished as it is, by indefatigable attention, and 

51 



402 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 

aided by the discrimination of a sound judgment, and tb© 
quick impulse of a strong, natural sensibility. Four years 
since, he ranked among the obscurest comedians of our stage. 
Opportunity had never indulged his genius with an experi- 
ment of its energies. He was silent and unknown. Soon 
after a poverty of talent in the theatre compelled Mr. Dick- 
enson into the character of " Sir Oliver Oldstick," in " He 
would be a Soldier ;" and his great success, though generally 
acknowledged, excited an applause, not unmixed with astonish- 
ment. Fame now opened her course to him ; her goal was 
in view ; he has ever since been mending his speed ; and, if 
the race is to be won by sound bottom, good mettle, whip and 
spur, we shall soon behold this favourite actor, the groAjth of 
our own town, in possession of the stake. His cast of charac- 
ter is commonly that of Parsons and Suett ; but he occasion- 
ally deviates into the precinct of Munden, and returns with 
fresh laurels. His "Old Rapid," " Sir Robert Ramble," and 
" Nicolas," in " Secrets Worth Knowing," are among his best 
assumptions. In " Job Thoniberry," for the two first nights, 
he appeared diffident of the task he had undertaken ; but dis- 
covered all the great outlines of the character. On the third 
and fourth nights, his confidence was strengthened by applause, 
and his merit by consciousness. The honest petulance of his 
anger is one of his best traits. In his scenes with Mary, he 
feels, if possible, too much, to give effect to his conception. 

Of Mr. Bernard, in " Dennis Brulgruddery," we shall give 
no sketch. The reader must see him. In this walk of Hiber- 



THEATRICAL CRITICISilS. 403 

niaii humour, he is entitled to the Shamrock of the stage. 
Some of the mimick sons of St. Patrick 

" Have been kind to the brogue, wliile they murdered the jest ;" 
but in him, what is a thundering jest to the audience appears 
to be uttered with such nature and simplicity, that in truth 
he blunders without knowing it. This is the strict keeping of 
character j the test of theatrical excellence. 

Wilmot's " Dan" has been justly commended in other 
criticism. His personation was very correct. Can he not 
cure his voice of some of its monotony ? Mere nature will 
often modulate the expression of passion, better than oratory. 
Clowns are the children of nature. 

" Francis Rochdale" is one of Mr. Jones's happiest efforts. 
Filial affection, high honour, love and jealousy are the fea- 
tures of this character. Those, who have seen the play, will 
not need to be told, that the transitions of these passions and 
principles were chastely and deeply marked. This gentleman 
has one excellence in common with Mr. Bernard ; speaking, 
or silent, he is always in character. In New-York, the char- 
acter was so indifferently portrayed, that the manager is 
advised to expunge as much of it, as the plot could spare from 
tlie play. Here, it is one of the most prominent personages of 
the drama. In some passages, however, Mr. Jones was guilty 
of a precipitancy, not warranted by the impulse of the scene ; 
but in a great proportion of the character, his illustration of 
the sentiment and soul of his author was luminous indeed. 
Tf we mistake not, the powers of this gentleman are well cul^ 



404 THEATRICAL CKlTICISMS. 

tivated, and might soar far beyond the flight of young Roclr-. 
dale. 

In the " Hon. Tom Shuffleton," tve hand Mr. Wilson, for 
tlie first time, to our readers ; and (all cavillings and barkings 
to the contrary notwithstanding) we do affirm, that he merited 
a very liberal exercise of the publick favour ; and that his 
conception of the character was much more correct, than that 
of some of his criticks. Scribblers should recollect, (not unless 
they have previously understood,) that " ShuiReton" is a com* 
pound of Bond-street fashion and Godwin's " political justice." 
He is no less a disciple of the beau monde, than of the pro- 
found " Stupeo." This intermixture of character is well 
preserved by Mr. Wilson, The thing is a caricature, and 
he has hit it exquisitely. The spleen of some criticks against 
this performer is almost ludicrous. In '^ Sir Benjamin Back- 
bite," he is reprehended for his rouge ! In " Durimel," he 
is commended for wearing little or none ! Mr. Barrett is 
also quizzed for using a white handkerchief in "Charles Sur- 
face !" The use of a handkerchief is surely not the objection ; 
Barrett may quote Smith and Palmer for that. By my troth 
then, the critick's senses are offended at the colour of it. 
pray, Barrett, appease his classical wrath, and change your 
laundress I To such a critick we shall only say, 

" Not the splenetick scowl, from e'en Stag'yrite's ej'es^ 
?for the fi'own, whicli, in trifles, looks sulky and wise. 
Constitute the great Critick. Poh, psha, pr'ythee, pish ; 
Take this tete de veau off, put some beef in the dish." 



THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 405 

In "Caroline Braymore," Mrs. Powell had little to exhibit, 
but the elegant frivolity of dress and fashion. The character 
was not worthy of the talent, she possesses, nor of the esteem, 
the publick entertains of her. But her taste embellished the 
shadows of the author's thought, and snatched applause be- 
yond the reach of the half-draw;i original. 

Mr. Barrett's " Peregiine" and Mrs. Jones's " Mary" haVe 
both very much impi'oved since the first night. They occupy 
a wide space in the publick estimation of the play. Mr. Bar- 
rett, we think, infused into his part some just discriminations 
of sense, and many fine sprinklings of feeling. The talent 
of Mrs. Jones has charmed us in so many walks, both of 
comedy and opera, that we scarcely know what line to fix 
upon as her greater excellence. With sentimental comedy 
she has been less familiar ; but she is not the less eminent. 
The interesting loveliness of person, and melodious tenderness 
of simple expression, required in " Mary," were the very 
characteristicks of Mrs. Jones. In relating her story to " Per- 
egrine," the description of her elopement from her father's 
house, honours both her judgment and feeling. She is the 
very picture of desolate grief, 

"And seems, as the tears o'er lier eyelids are creeping- ; 
Like a willow, that g'rows for lire purpose of weeping--" 



SKETCH OF SPAIN* 



GEOGRAPHICAL, HISTORICAL, AND POLITICAL, 



Spain is not a dead, but sleeping lion. 



The subsequent Sketch ivas jirejiared^ at a short notice, at 
the request of Messrs. Russell, Cutler and Belcher, as prefa- 
tory to their account of the dinner, in 1809, given by the mer- 
chants of Boston, in honour of the " Spanish Patriots." Mr^ 
Paine nvas ?iow greatly depressed in his circumstances, and his 
health was so much impaired, that he ivas confined almost wholly 
to his house. He was not the owner nor possessor of a single 
historical trad j and, living out of town, he had not the means 
of consulting any, while writing, if it had been necessary to his 
purpose. The store-house of his memory alone supplied him 
with the materials. It would be difficult to find a greater 
volume of history compressed into a narrower compass ; and, 
judging from his conversation, it could not have been reasonably 
inferred that the history of this section of the globe had been the 
subject of his particular attention. .4 mind, so capable of looking 
" into the seeds of time," and so abundantly replenished with 
the lore of past ages, ought to have been encouraged and might 
have been usefully employed in elevated political speculations. 

The heroick valour of Spain and her illustrious ally has 
^^ plucked up her drowned honour by the locks " and four years 
have given the substantial impress of truth to these sanguine 
speculations. Prophecy surrendered to history upon the renown- 
ed plains of Salamanca, 



SKETCH. OF SPAIN, 



"The STORK in the heavens knoweth her appointed time'," 

At this momentous crisis in the annals of hviman liberty, when 
the hopes and fears of mankind are trembling in the balance 
with dark and doubtful destiny, Spain, a nation peculiarly- 
marked by heaven and history ; great though oppressed, never 
despairing, and now resuscitated, has become equally interest- 
ing to the mind of the philosopher, and the heart of the phi- 
lanthropist. The late eruption of publick virtue in this south- 
ern extremity of Atlantick Europe, while it has covered with. 
a warm suffusion of transport the cheeks of all brother patri- 
ots in every section of the globe, is not to be regarded as one 
of the wonders of this " age of prodigies !" After an elaborate 
and unbiassed examination and comparison of the national 
genealogy, and family features, of modern Europe, we feel 
an ingenuous pride in asserting, that this revolution, bold and 
glorious as it is, is no mn^acle at the south of the Pyrennees. 
There it is a plain event, which was justly to be expected, 
from the fire and the patience, the constancy and the elevation 
of the Spanish character. Slow to determine, the Spaniards 
are resolute to act. True to their plight, muscular from labour, 
52 



410 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 

and familiar with peril, they glory in their zeal, contented td 
suiFer, and despising to despair. Such men may be slaught- 
ered, but they can never be disgraced or conquered. 

Cordially as the great family of man has rejoiced at the 
late uprising of this powerful though recumbent people, we 
have no doubt but the aspiring dictator of Europe still beholds 
this sudden disruption of his Jesuitical plans, as the most sur- 
prising incident in the political drama, of whose tragical buf- 
foonery, he had so long been the principal actor ; a drama, in 
which he played " the very vice of kings," and oft had mad© 
some scores of brother kings, and sister, brother kings of 
" threads and patches ;" and all, perdue, to put their " pre- 
cious diadems in his pocket !" It is now useless to add, that 
this Imperial freebooter was born in the island of Corsica, in 
the very year, v/hen it became a patch on the train of the 
French colonies ; an island which has produced but one Paoli, 
and above a million pirates ; an island, which in 1768, became 
a fief of France, and in thirty years after gave a tyrant to her 
mistress. This emigrant Emperour had brought with him, 
from the m.ountainous crag of his nativity, the unprincipled 
atrocity and barbarism of its predatory inhabitants, attempered 
and commanded by the prodigal boldness of its once noble 
chief. It is no blot on the escutcheon of Paoli, that he attend- 
ed as a Christian sponsor, at the baptism (Oh word pro- 
phaned !) of Buonaparte ! for then, he knew not the mishapen 
babe of blood ; and who shall look " into the seeds of time ?" 
Now, indeed, (should this great spirit now revisit earth,) he 
would blush at the degeneracy of his godson, 



SKETCH OF SPAIN. 41 1 

And startle at the dire pollution of the rite. 
Which at the sacred fount baptized a fiend ! 
And, in the conscious horrour of the tomb. 
His peace-laid bones would shiver at the deed 

In the invasion of Spain, the predictions of that firm and 
•enlightened patriot Cevallos have been verified to the amaze- 
ment of the usurper, who presumptuously thought that she 
had forgotten her Pelagias and her Charles, as Holland had 
her Van Trump and her Nassau. It is evident that he mis- 
rated the people, with whom he had to contend. He had not 
suspected, that the very arts, which he employed to sever the 
rock at the basis of the mountain, would rend the ice on its 
summit, and produce an avalanche to crush him. Infatuated 
with triumph, and unsated with spoil ; a hero compovmded of 
marginal notes translated from Plutarch ; a politician, military 
as Rome, and corrupt as her Praetorian cohort ; he adventured 
on the conquest of this degraded, though not degenerated peo- 
ple, without knowing one spring in the whole physical engine, 
that moved the energy and the spirit of the country. It is no 
wonder, therefore, that he has lounged into the cathedrals of 
Spain, as a Choctaw on his travels would stroll among the 
apparatus of a philosophy chamber. Haply, both for a while 
might be mightily tickled with so novel an amusement, in 
which their sole object was to gaze, to admire, and to pilfer. 
The royal robber would no doubt lay his hands on the superb 
and massy ornaments of the church, with as little ceremony 
and concern, as the " vmtutored Indian" would have in feeling 
andhandling the magical workmanship of anelectricalmachine. 



412 SKETCH OF SPAIN, 

This too, sans doubie, might all be done from curiosity, sheer 
curiosity ; and the results of both experiments have been 
equally curious. " JVoli me tangere" was a motto which the 
Indian never loievv, and the Corsican had forgotten ; and thus 
they both agreed to touch and take ; " but no such matter 1" 
For when the " itching palm" of the arch emperour sacrile- 
giously attempted to purloin the treasures of the sacristy, with- 
out asking first the wings of its sculptured saints to transport 
it, he fatally found, like his unsophisticated brother of the 
woods, that his too meddlesome finger had struck the conduct- 
ing wire of the battery, and what he had touched from amuse- 
jTient, had knocked him down in good earnest ! 

Alexander raved at a wound, and Buonaparte iiiay yet die of 
a surprize ! 

Spain has been celebrated in classick annals, under the 
names of Iberia, Hesperia, and Hispania. It is so severed by 
nature from the continent, to which it is attached, that it forms 
in itself a disconnected and independent section of the earth. 
Whoever glances on the map will directly perceive that it is 
the very x^ecess of the coiatinent ; and a modern traveller has, 
pronounced it the finest portion of the globe, either in the old 
world or the new. In all the revolutions and wars of Europe, 
from the establishment of the Olympick Games to the present 
epoch, it has been a land of renown. Abounding m mines of 
silver and other precious metals, which have not been worked 
since the discovery of America, Spain is by many historians 
supposed to have been the Tarshish of the Hebrews and Phoe= 
aicians, mentioned in scripture. Six hundred years before the 



SKETCH OF SPAIN. 413 

Christian era, the Greeks planted a colony in the south of 
Fi-ance, and built the city of Marseilles, the inhabitants of 
which to this day retain the Grecian configvu"ation of counte- 
nance. They also explored the adjacent Spanish provinces of 
Catalonia, Valencia, Murcia and Granada, It is not certainly 
known, that they ever carried their spirit of adventure to the 
Pillars of Hercules ; but Gibraltar, the ancient Caipe, was vis- 
ited by Carthagenian enterprize, and many cities were built by 
them on the Mediterranean shores of Spain. In the second 
Punick war, Hannibal destroyed the city of Saguntum for its 
unyielding attachment to Rome, and an insulated rock, near 
the capital of Valentia, still bears the ruins of that heroick 
town, as a proud monument of Spanish constancy. Carthage 
fell, and Spain was annexed to the empire of Rome ; though 
some of her mountains w^ere never ascended by the Imperial 
Eagle. Soon after, Cesar, Pompey and Licinius Crassus 
formed their celebrated triumvirate ; and, in the division of the 
world between them, such was the relative estimation of Spain 
in the scale of nations, that Pompey was satisfied with that 
kingdom alone for his lot. He built Pampeluna in Navarre, 
but never quietly established his dominion in the heart of the 
country. By a continual reinforcement of veteran legions, and 
impregnable garrisons, the Romans maintained their power, 
until the beginning of the fifth century ; that century, which 
laid the foundation of all modern Europe. This era was more 
famous for the dissolution of an empire, which had governed 
the Vvorld for seven hundred years, than even the thirteenth 
century for producing a hero, who overran the world in as 



414 SKETCH OF SPAIX. 

many days. But, as the epoch of Gengiskan seems to be revived 
in modern fimes, we trust that the ambitious despot, who, 
like him, aims to stretch his sceptre from China to Hungary, 
may, like him, reign only in the renown of his exploits. At 
the fall of the Roman empire, Spain was invaded by the Suevi, 
Alani, alid Goths. In a short time, the Goths became the sole 
masters. When Rome fell, her empire was broken into many 
fragments : and each member, like the parts of a dissected 
polypus, sprouted up into a new kingdom. In this eventful 
century, which beheld the prostration of her power, not only 
the Goths settled in Spain, but the Franks in Gaul, the Van- 
dals in Africa, the Anglo-Saxons in England, and the exiles of 
Padua in the isle of Rialto. In 712, the Saracens or Moors 
(Arabs and successours of Mahomet), who inhabited the oppo- 
site coast of Africa, being invited by the grandees of Spain, 
who revolted from their King Roderick for the commission of 
a crime, which banished the Tarquins from Rome, landed a 
powerful army in the southern provinces, and in the year 714 
defeated the Gothick monarch, who lost in the contest his life 
and kingdom. But still the Saracens, who, like the Saxons 
in England, and Henry II. in Ireland, treacherously endeav- 
oured to subjugate the nation, they came to emancipate, were 
not masters of this fairest portion of Christendom. A gallant 
remnant of the Spanish Goths escaped to the inaccessible 
mountains on the borders of Asturia and Biscay, and preserved 
their kingdom and their faith. For the greater security they 
separated into four states, Castile, Arragon, Navarre and Leon ; 
and held out defiance to the enemy. Nature found bulwarks^ 



SKETCH OF SPAIN. 415 

and Spain heroes. The renowned Don Pelagius, and after him 
Don Favella, in the eighth century, were successively the 
Irvarriour kings of this unconquered band ; and by continual 
descents, ravages, and incursions from the mountains, on the 
Mahometan invaders, wrested province after province from 
their possession : and taught their faithful posterity the hero- 
ick lesson, that eternal war, with all its horrours, was a prefer- 
able evil to " one day of bondage." Their descendants were 
worthy of their progenitors. Hear it, America ! This is no 
dream of Philosophy, nor romance of Panegyrick ! A war of 
seven hundred years, in which they were often vanquished, 
but never subdued. A war of thirty generations was waged 
for Liberty, and confirmed the doctrine, and appeased the 
manes of their slaughtered forefathers. Year after year, the 
Moorish Crescent waned. At length it set in blood ! The 
Mahometan power received a mortal blow at the terrible battle 
of Tariifa, in Andalusia, near the Straits of Gibraltar, in the 
year 1 340 ; and in 1494, two years after the bold and ambitious 
genius of Spain had discovered a new world in the western 
hemisphere, she expelled the Moors from their last fortress, 
the city of Granada, and became sole mistress of her lawful 
domains. 

Portugal, which on the map of the eastern continent, ap- 
pears to be so essential to the integrity of the kingdom of 
Spain, with her experienced the vicissitudes of the " none- 
sparjng wars," which followed the decline and dismemberment 
of the Roman empire. In the extirpation of the Moors, the 
south-west promontory of Portugal was often the field of 



416 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 

valour and of courage. In 1 1 39, their general Alplionso, gave 
battle to the Mahometans at Urique, a town in the province 
of Alentejo, adjoining Andalusa, obtained a glorious victory, 
and vras crowned King. The portion of Portugal, which he 
possessed, he afterwards gave, with his daughter in marriage, 
to Henry of Burgundy, grandson of Robert, King of France. 
In tliis family the Portuguese crown continued until 1580, 
when Philip II. son and successour of Charles I. of Spain, 
reunited it to his kingdom. In 1640, the duke of Braganca 
restored the independence of Portugal, and ascended the 
throne under the title of John IV. In this house the crown 
now remains. 

In the sixteenth century, the arras of Spain overawed all 
Europe ; and her discoveries stretched over a great portion of 
the new continent. It was her boast, that the sun never set 
on the empire of Spain. Charles II. of the Netherlands, 
fcldest son of Philip II. Count of Holland, of the house of 
Austria,) better known under the title of Charles I. of Spain, 
and Charles V. of the empire of Rome, ascended the throne 
of Spain in the beginning of this celebrated century. Being 
a competitor with Francis I. of France for the empire, he de- 
feated the French army with great slaughter at Pavia, in the 
then imperial dukedom of Milan, took the French king pris- 
oner, carried him to Madrid, and exacted a heavy price for 
his ransom. This memorable battle was fought in 1525 ; and 
two years after we find the monarch of Spain storming the 
gates of Rome, and threatening the confederated powers of 
Europe with the establishment of a new western empire. Of 



SKETCH OF SPAIN. 417 

the military prowess of Spain, in this era of her greatness, an 
immortal monument exists in the magnificent palace of the 
Escurial, in New Castile;. This royal edifice, the largest and 
most costly in Eui-ope, was twenty-two years in building, and 
was erected by Philip II. son of Charles I. to perpetuate his 
victory of St. Quintin, gained on St. Lawrence's day, in 1557. 

Charles II. of Spain, having no issue, named Philip, duke 
of Anjou, grandson of Lewis XIV. of France, for his successour. 
This gave rise to the succession war, in which almost all 
Europe v/as engaged. Philip had a formidable antagonist in 
Charles, afterwards emperour under the title of Charles VI. 
but he ultimately succeeded, at the battle of Minaya, and was 
crowned 17©7. His eventual success, however, was prodi- 
giously promoted by the plausibility of his title, deduced from 
his alliance to the crown of Spain, as Lewis had mai-ried the 
daughter of Philip IV. 

From this period the glory of the Iberian name gradually 
declined, through a long, luxiu'ious, waning century, in which 
Spain, as a government, lost all her firmness to foreign nations, 
and doubled her despotism on her own subjects. In the wide 
waste of her glory, we discern with pride, and we commemo- 
rate with gratitude, the noble effort, she made in the cause of 
American libeity. As the generous and voluntary deed of a 
gallant and disinterested nation, it is worthy the brightest days 
of her chivalry. It was heroism without reproach, and without 
reward ; it was a spark of Castilian fire, which reiumined the 
<juivering lamp in the clay-cold cemetery of her honours. 
53 



418 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 

A great people can never be debased by a weak g-overnment. 
The love of country is a religion, which bums in all bosoms, 
and submits to all sacrifices. That man must be brave, who 
fears to outlive his country. His home and his grave are 
sacred by the law of nature, and the prescription of ages. 
Farms and kingdoms may be sold, but not their inhabitants, 
or knight service. Men are not heirlooms to estates, nor 
sumpter-mules to itinerant kings. 

The dominion of Spain is a stake, which in all ages has 
been desperately contended for ; but, amid all the conflicts 
and revolutions of Europe, Spain has never been conquered. 
She has been partially subdued, but has never sunk under the 
panick of defeat. The swords of heroes have resounded upon 
her shield ; but she has recorded her valour on the helmets 
of her assailants. Beaten to her mother earth, she has risen 
like Anteus, stronger from her fall. Napoleon, the modern 
Tartar, may march over her territory ; but never subjugate 
it. Every obstacle of nature, every principle of man, every 
hope of heaven, are in arms to oppose him. Wherever the 
eye turns, Spain glitters. One soul is every where ; one spirit 
breathes through all life ! Virgins and wives give enthusiasm 
to courage, while old age and childhood lend sanctity to pat- 
riotism. The whole region is alive ; above and below, on 
hills and in valleys, the empire is in motion. The invading 
foe may triumph in pitched engagements ; but two victories 
would cost him his crown. Sanguine of his fortune, he would 
probably be tempted by his intoxicated vanity, to penetrate 



SKETCH OF SPAIN". 419 

the intei'iour of the country. But here his royal brother, the 
princely Tourist, should remember, that this is the extreme 
bound of his geographical curiosity ; the "bourne, from which 
no traveller returns." Thus advanced, he cannot retreat. 
Every march will be the signal for a battle ; every encamp- 
ment for a seige. The triumphs of his bulletins will be the 
funerals of his armies, and his realm their charnel house. 
Victorious monarch, here ends thy reign ! thy only psean was 
a dirge ; thy only courtiers, a banditti. Having existed by 
rapine, they will die like malefactors ; as they have violated 
religion, they will despair of its consolation j having barbarized 
nature, they will be execrated by mankind. 

Spain, together with Portugal, exhibits a more solid and 
regular geographical figure, than any other country in Europe. 
It forms almost a compact square, whose north eastern boun- 
dary is an obtuse angle, connected with the continent, and 
separated from France, by the Pyrennean mountains. Its 
other outlines are sides of such geometrical proportion, that 
they are nearly equilateral and co-extensive ; and are guarded 
and washed by the Mediterranean and Atlantick oceans. This 
peculiar configuration, (if there be a language in the works of 
Providence,) indisputably stamps this country an independant 
nation. Its greatest length, extending from Cape Finisterre 
to Barcelona, is six hundred miles ; its greatest breadth, from 
Cape Ortugal to Tarriffa, on the Straits of Gibraltar, is five 
hundred and fifty miles. Thus constructed, thus combined, 
and thus defended, is the last refuge of continental liberty. . 



420 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 

In days of classick glory, Spain has been the thrifty 
womb of eraperours, heroes, poets and philosophers. She was 
the august mothfer of Trajan the Good, and of Theodosius the 
Great ; the proud parent of Lucan, of Seneca and Quintilian. 
In modern time she and her sister Portugal have removed 
the " ultima Thule" of commerce, by patronizing a Colum- 
bus, and giving birth to a de Gama. 

Her kingdom is now the grand theatre, on which is exhibited 
the last act, in the eventful drama of human liberty. Spain 
presents on the map that singular boldness of feature, which, 
as a nation, has in all ages marked her greatness and decision 
of soul. ShCjis a Tempe among an amphitheatre of precipices. 
A most striking analogy exists between her surface and her 
character ; her geography and her history. While her hills, 
bleak with barrenness, frown terrible security over her vallies, 
blooming with luxuriance, she presents us with a lineage of 
heroes, whose honour has been for centuries the mirror of 
courtesy, and whose valour, the terrour of knighthood. This 
great peninsula of Europe, rendered almost physically invin- 
cible by its own mountainous intersections, seems to have been 
designed originally by the master hand of creation, to be at 
once the garden and the citadel of the globe. 

With such a title, she can claim the world for her friend, 
for she has been the friend of the world. Heroes are the 
native productions of her soil, for Italy and Greece are her 
kindred ; and while the luxuriant plains of Campania and of 
Capua bloom anew in the verdure of her vineyards, and the 



SKETCH OF SPAIN. 421 

fragrance of her groves, she can boast a Thermopylae in every 
mountain, in every field a Marathon. 

= "Oh ! never may 

This Earth of Majesty, this Seat of Mars ; 

This other Eden, demi-paradise ; , 

This fortress, buih by Nature for herself. 

Against infection and the hand of war ; 

This precious stone, set in " her cloud-capt hills," 

Which serve it in the office of a wall. 

Or as a moat defeasive to a house. 

Against the envy of less happy lands ; 

This Nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings. 

Feared for their breed, and famous for their birth, 

Renowned for their deeds throughout the world. 

For christian service, and true chivalry ; 

Lie at the proud foot of a Conqueror ; 

Nor be leased out, (she'll die pronouncing it) 

Like to a tenement or pelting farm !" 



NOTES, 



His intention of noticing all M}\ Painc'^s imitations, is'c. the 
Editor soon found himself compelled to abandon. Some are so 
remote or obscure, that the most patient collator could hardly 
hope to detect them ; others, as they are obvious and direct^ 
cannot escape the most careless reader. 

As the labour of correcting the press is new to him, the Ed- 
itor is seiisible that many false quantities, iJfc. have passed 
without observation; and he is extremely sorry to fnd, that not a 
few unwarrantable rhymes and accents, all of which he had 
purposed to distinguish by italicks, are not so disti7iguished. For 
these negligencies and others, some of a more, some of a less 
pardonable character, he has iyideed no excuse : he cannot how- 
ever but hope, that this frank, not to say humble, confession of 
his offences may iii some degree soften the censure, which, as he 
feels himself to desei've it, the Editor does not expect to avoicL 



NOTES 



TO THE 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 



THEME. " AN UNDEVOUT ASTROXOMER IS MAD.*' 

Page 7, line 5. 
Brighter the glories of the unbounded Crod. 

The whole paragraph is not inelegantly imitated from sev- 
eral passages of the Paradise Lost. It shews that Milton was 
among the authors, with whom Mr. Paine was early conver- 
sant. His acquaintance, however, does not appear to have 
ripened into an intimacy with him, who describes himself, as 
able to 

feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 

Harmonious numbers. 

p. 7,1. 13, 14. 

Come the?!, sweet nymfih, thy mildest breath impart, 
To swell the youthful muse's artless reed. 

Of this personification the part, where the Evening is seen, 
as a nymph, playing on the pipe, is eminently happy. The 
whole is indeed full of Sicilian tenderness. I know not whether 
Collins might not have suggested the imagery. 

p. 8, 1. 2. 

Whispered invitem.ent to the bower qf joy.. 

The word invitement, if not, as I think it is, from the Poet's 
own mint, is not current with good authors ; it is obsolescent, 
perhaps obsolete. 

54 



426 NOTES TO THE 

p. 8, 1. 4. 

Urged their request.^ and won my willing soul. 

The zephyrs in this and the four preceding lines are evidently 
copied from these fine verses : 

now gentle gales, 

Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
Those balmy spoils. 

Milton, as Waiton suggests, here remembered his Elegy on 
Bishop Andrewes, once master of Pembroke College, Cam- 
bridge. 

Serpit odorlferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 
Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis. 

Stole is from Shakespeare, and balmy sfioils^ odoriferas opesj 
probably suggested Dryden's (ann : mii'ab :) guilty sweets. 

p. 8, 1. 9. 

Enhedged with Jiowers<f and shrubs, and -vines, and thorns, 

Enhedged is one of Mr. Paine's own vi'ords, but, as it is not 
impoetxcal, it is perhaps vrorthy of preservation. 

p. 8, 1. 10. 

Which in luxuriant confusion grew. 

This line, partly from the properties of its two leading words, 
and paitly from the deep and stridulous aspiration, required in 
pronouncing the relative pronoun, with which the line begins, 
is miserably sluggish ; and of the same faults, other examples 
might be easily cited. Indeed Mr. Paine's ear, at least in early 
life, was but little enamoured of the full and stately harmony 
of Milton's rhythm. His blank verse neither moves 

like a proud steed reined^ 

Champing his iron curb ; 

nor like some ethereal power can it be described, as 

Gliding meteorous, as evening mist. 
Risen from a river, o'er the marish glides. 
And gather's round fast at the labourer's heelj 
Homeward returning. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 42?" 

His lines seem to creep tamely along, 

Streaklng^ the ground with sinuous trace ; 
or else they are seen 

Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait. 
With that canon of Prosody, which requires that, in blank verse, 
the pauses should never in two successive lines fall in the same 
place, he was either not then acquainted, or, if acquainted 
with it, he considered himself, as at liberty to depart from a 
rule, to which he perhaps found it difficult to submit. 

p. 8, 1. 24. 
jis waves on wa-ves, so generations crowd. 
From Horace, Ep : ad Jul : Flor : v. 175 sq. 

Hseres 

Hscredem alterius, velut unda supervenit undam. 

p. 9, 1. 5. 

£'er sweetly smile to lure us from the storm, 

E-ver^ when used, not as an intensive, but as equivalent to 
always^ does not seem to admit of contraction ; especially 
when, as in this line, it holds the first place. 

p. 9,1. II. 

Their silent tread I hear. 

Silent is not here to be understood, as signifying an absolute 
privation of sound. The poet means to say, that the footfall 
was so soft, as not to be audible, except to a strict and list- 
ening attention. 

p. 10, 1. 5. 

Of Sirius descries more distant worlds. 

Siriusy though of three syllables, is always pronounced in the 
time of two. 

p. 10, 1. 6. 
These cire thy wonders, great Jehovah, these. 
FroraParad : Lostjb, iv. p. 153 sqq. and Thompson's Hymn, 



428 NOTES TO THE 

I know not whether some other reason, than its unutterable 
sanctity, may not have influenced the English poets, in abstain-^ 
ing from the word Jehovah. Milton uses it but three times in 
the Paradise Lost. 

p. 10,1. 14. 

In Nature's language^ understood by all. 

From Addison's, (if it be not Marvel's) Pai'aphrase of the 
19th Psalm. 

p. 10, 1. 19. 

"Tis thou ivho check'st in mid career the storm. 
Yet half his strength he put not forth, butcheck'd 
His thunder in mid volley. P. L. b. iv. 

p. 10, 1.22. 
A7id their fient lurath in bursting lightnings pour. 
Pent is a favourite with Milton. Instances might be cited 
from Sampson Agonistes, Comus and Paradise Lost; and 
Phillips, the earliest of Milton's imitators, discovers a suitable 
fondness for this verbal adjective. 

p. 10,1. 24. 

From its foundations heave the boiling deep.. 

From their foundation, loosening' to and fro. 
They plucked the seated hills. P. L. b. vi. 

p. 10, 1. 27. 

Thou smiVst ; the main subsides, to smile nvith thee. 

Virgil, in his first ^iieis, represents Neptune, as communi-^ 
eating of his own serenity to the ocean, and causing it, almost 
by a look, to settle from a dark and weltering uproar to silence 
and a calm. What iEschyius, in the apostrophe, that breaks 
from Prometheus in the Ti^ofA. : LsTfA. : v. 89, sq. calls the 

mro-fiim') t\ KV/mxlm 

Avii^iSrfxov yiKa.o-/Lt.aL. 

which Lucretius, lib. i, v. 8, imitates by rident lequora pontiy 
is not a smooth and glassy tranquillity ; such, as Anacreon 
describes in the following lines. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES, 429 

• •• ■ )a)f/.a. B'u.Xa.crtnc ^ 

' ATrctKVViTait yttMVil, 

which Virgil, according to Fischer, seems to have rendered in 
the Alexis, by cum filacidum vends staret mare ; it is such a 
sharp and lively ripple, as, glancing to the sun, may be poeti- 
cally said to enjoy the soft air and cloudless sky.. In this sense 
Milton without doubt, understood the Father of Tragedy 
and the Hierophant, as Dr. Darwin would have called Lucre- 
tius, of Nature. 

As when to them, who sail 

Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 

Mf)zambick off at sea, northeast winds blow 

Sabean odours from the spicy shore 

Of Araby the blest, with snch delay 

Well pleased, they slack their course, and many a league 

Cheered with the grateful smell old ocean smiles. P.L.b.iv. 159 sqq. 
It is not unworthy of notice, that Milton, speaking of the 
subsiding flood, says, 

: ..the clouds were fled. 

Driven by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry 

Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decayed, P. L. si- 842, sqq. 

But this lurinkling ivind, it is to be observed, was a keen 
north ivind. 

Milton, however, and Lucretius and .^schylus are hardly 
remembered, when one recalls the simple narrative of two 
Evangelists, and the more impressive and graphical represen- 
tation of a third, who instead of relating, like St. Matthew and St. 
Luke, the mere fact, presents to us the Saviour rebuking the 
winds, St. Mark's, S.'aVas, 7rE<pific^<ro was full in Milton's 
recollection, when he made the Son, girt with omni/iotence, 
standing at the gates of Heaven, look out into the -vast im- 
measurable abyss, and thus address, not, as after the creation, a 
single element, but the -void and formless infinite, as he else- 
where denominates Chaos. 

Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou deep, peace. 
Said tlien th' omnifick word, }'our discord end. 
p. 10, h30. 

Before thy chariot wheels, self-rolUng, flies 
Pale awe. 

Milton's chariot of fiaternal Deity is iJistinct with spirit. 

No sooner is it wanted, than it appears, flashing thick flames, 



430 NOTES TO THE 

and is seen to await the conqueror. Nor does it merely 
move, as from itself; it shares in the conflict, and partakes of 
the victory. The whole passage is wonderfully splendid, and 
one can hardly read it, without deriving from the description 
some portion of that turbid rapture, in which it was conceived. 
The place in the seventh book, though similar is much infe- 
rior. From the one his recollection of Homer's Vulcan may 
be gathered : in the other we discover Milton's intimacy with 
the Hebrew Scriptures. 

THEME. TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE GOV. BOWDOIN. 

" Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede paupcrum tabernas, 
Regumque turres." Hoa. 4th Ode, 1st book. 

p. 15, 1. 5. 

Beneath thick glooms the distant landscap.e fades. 

Suggested probably by Gray, 

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight. 

They are both so refreshing, that I know not which to prefer, 
Gray's Evening or Milton's Morning Scenery. 

Under the opening eyelids of tlie morn we drove a field. 

The Elegiack copied the Epick poet. In the Cambridge 
M.S. S. and the first (1638) edition of Lycidas, it is, instead 
of " opening," " glimmering eyelids." And here, as they 
were both favourites of Mr. Paine, I cannot refrain from con- 
templating, as compared with each other, these two great, 
though by no means equal or similar poets. 

Gray has little invention ; but his imitations are exquisite ; 
his landscapes are elysian ; and from his sky there beams a 
soft and tender azure, to which the verdure of his earth is ad-r 
mirably adjusted. 

Nor is Milton, perhaps, less of a copyist than Gray. But 
his obligations are not so easily detected, as, instead of borrow-? 
ing from the moderns, the ancients seem to throng about 
him, and intreat him to consider their treasures, as his 
own. He yields to their importunities, and there is hardly an 
author of Greece or Rome, that has not furnished a column 
or a frieze or a capital to that immortal poem, which, like the 
structure described toward the end of the first book, 



COIiLEGE EXERCISES. 431 

« discovers wide 

Within her ample spaces. 

Gray's fancy loves to gaze fondly at the evening star ; Mil- 
ton's imagination delights to look, as in defiance of its wither- 
ing splendour, at the morning sun. 

Gray is fond of listening to the Curfew ; it is sweet to his 
ear, and seems to his melancholy mind, like the requiem 
of another day, gone to mingle and be lost, like a drop, in the 
abyss of the past. 

It is one of Milton's pleasures to hearken with a kind of 
transport to the midnight bell, as its deep and solemn tones. 

Over some wide watered shore, 
' Swinging slow with sullen roar, 

becoming more impressive from distance and darkness, breathe 
back all their harmony from a full and faithful echo. 

The vales of Phoeacia and the charms of the vernal Calypso 
are among Gray's delights ; Milton loves the autumnal graces 
of Penelope and the rocks of Ithaca. 

Milton's eye is purged with Euphrasy : he ascends the 
specular 7nount of his learning and genius, and all time, the 
future as well as the past, seems to lie open to his inspection. 
Gray is of feebler opticks : his solemn scenes are, by no means, 
frequent; they are always fugitive; he catches but a glimpse 
of the years to come, but that glimpse is more than enough ; 
it overpowers the sense ; 

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight ! 
Ye unborn ages, ci'owd not in my soul. 

Gray, in his aversion from active life, and his ardent devo- 
tion to the Belles Lettres-, resembles Paris retreating, even 
at the hazard of reproach, from the field, and smothering 
the sense of shame in the arms of his mistress ; Milton, in 
his love of controversy, whether civil or religious, seems to 
despise his darling studies, as Hector, when the clarion was 
ringing in his ears, could hardly find time or voice to commend 
his wife and infant to heaven. 

Of Milton, it may be said, that he has no supei'iour ; of 
Gray, that his equals are rarely found. 



432 ^OTESTOTfffi 

p. 15,1. 11, 12. 

In yonder spot Fame^s great colossus lies > 
Jl Boivdoin moulders in the humble tomb I 

This half Stanza subtracts from the effect of the three stanzas 
by a wretched hyperbole. 

p. 16, 1. 7, 

The gales with sighs the atvjul voice resound. 

The error, by which certain letters and sounds, being com* 
pounded, ai'e made to rhyme with the same sounds and letters 
not compounded, though not without examples even in Pope, 
is indefensible. 

p. 16,1. 15, 16. 

,/ind hang on the tomb their -votive wreath^ 
A wreath with mingl^ honours fondly wove. 

For on read ufion. The making of virtue and philosophy 
to lament at Mr. Bowdoin's tomb, is a pretty thought ; but 
the extravagance of the panegyrick is excusable only, as it 
comes from a youth. 

p. ir, 1. 8. 

He shone the sun of philosofihick light. 

Mr. Bowdoin was president of tlie American Academy of 
Arts and Sciences. Among the transactions of that body may 
be found some of his philosophical papers. 

p. 17, 1. 9. 

In him the patriot virtues all coinbined. 

Mr. Bowdoin was for several years Governour of Massa- 
chusetts. 

p. 17, 1. 24. 

Strong, without rage, and without flattery, sweet. 

Another parody on Sir John Denham's memorable line 
in his apostrophe to the Thames. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 433 

p. 17, 1. 25. 
When Massachusetts* patriot sages met. 
The Convention summoned to determine, whether Massa- 
chusetts would adopt the Federal Constitution, as accepted 
and recommended by tlie General Convention, in 1787. 

THEME. " KNOW THEN THYSELF ; PRESUME NOT GOD TO SCAN ; 
THE PROPER STUDY OF MANKIND IS MAN," 

p. 20, 1. S, 12, 20. 
And all the Loves and Graces shone. 
He blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand. 
And Eden echoed 'with delights. 
The allegory, by which nature and virtue, being husband 
and wife, become the parents of happiness, is tolerably well 
sustained. It wants, however, ease and elegance ; perhaps, 
because it is too long continued. 

p. 21, 1. 6. 
When Zephyr from the tvestern cave. 

So in the Valedictory Poem : 

Long have the Zephyrs in their sea-green caves, 
Shunned the catm bosom of the slumbering waves. 
For this image and others of near affinity to it Mr. Paine 
seems to haye conceived a peculiar affection. The same or 
a kindred phrHseology is of frequent occurrence. 

. p. 21, 1. 12. 
Thick loivering clouds the heavens deform. 
M and n, though widely dissonant, are often employed by 
the earlier poets as homotonous. Even the father of English 
satire, who may be said to have distanced his contemporaries 
not less, than his immediate predecessors, by a full century, 
in this respect is not faultless. One of many instances shall 
suffice. In the Absalom and Achitophel, he makes the last 
syllable of Absalom, lorn, jingle with none. Nor is Pope, 
scrupulous as he was, almost to fastidiousness, in assorting his 
rhymes, without one example, at least, of the same offence. 
In the Dunciad he couples damn and ma?z. 
55 



434. NOTES TO I'tlte' 

p. 22, 1. 13. 
From his smooth tongue sweet poison Jlotved, 
Of vice, as personified in the preceding Stanzas, Mr. 
Paine has borrowed many features from Milton. To the 
same poet he is indebted for the allegory in the beginning 
of the Poem. 

p. 22, 1. 23. 
Was heard the echo of the laivn. 
Lawn is here used, as consonant to the last syllable of for-- 
lorn. But, so used, it is utterly barbarous and inexcusable. 
Or and aw do not come from the same, or even from a similar 
articulation ; they are either not at all alike, or else, which is 
worse, all similitude is lost in identity. 

p. 23, 1. 8. 
And Ede7i^s fading beauties wefit. 
This sympathy of the material with the moral world is 
finely touched in the Paradise Lost. Book xi. v. 782 sqq. and 
V. 1000 sqq. 

p. 23, 1. 24. 
Here Hapfiiness with him retreats. 
Hither, had the metre permitted, is the proper word. The 
same sacrifice of grammar to prosody meets us in the " Pro- 
gi'ess of Society :" 

"A centre must be tuhere its motions tend." 
Poets, however, on the other as well, as on this side of th©^ 
Atlantick, treat these humble adverbs with little I'espect. 

p. 24, 1. 9. 
Severe Experience soon will learn. 
Without resorting to Shakespeare or the Bishop's Bible, 
this abuse of speech may be palliated by this example of Sir 
William Blackstone. Com. vol. i. p. 428. "Appixnticeships," 
(says he, speaking as an advocate for the "exclusive part," as 
he calls it, of 5th Eliz. cap. 4, §. 31,) " are useful to the Com- 
monwealth, by employing of youth, and learmng them to be early 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 435 

industrious." Learn is still considered and employed, as 
synonymous with teach in Scotland. 

p. 24, 1. 20. 

^?id all the nmid's dark host appears. 

CoUins's " Shadowy tribes of Mind" was, perhaps, in Mr. 
Paine's memory. 

THEME. " HUMANUM EST ERRARE." 

To this piece, Milton has furnished much of the sentiment, 
and not a little of the diction. It is a happier attempt at blank 
verse, than the theme on Astronomy. 

p. 31, 1. 20. 
Before yon sun, in youthful splendour clad. 

Collins in his Ode on the poetical charactei', the noblest, as 
it strikes me, of his noble efforts, thus addresses the sun : 
And thou, thou rich-haired youth of morn. 
Golden-tressed, which answers to rich-haired, and probably 
suggested the compound to Collins, is used by Milton, in his 
version of the 136th Psalm. He afterwards transferred it to 
his Reason of Church Government, where he calls tlie laws, 
the king's " illustrious and sunny locks," " those bright and 
•weighty tresses," " the golden beams of law and right." 
Phoebus and Bacchus are, indued, with unfading youth, 
Solis seterna est Phoebo Bacchoqvie juventas. 
Nam decet intonsus crinis utrumque deum. Tibull. I. 4 ^7. 

p. 32, 1. 4. 
The artful traitress, with Circassian smiles. 
Although the manuscript is directly against me, I cannot 
but think that Mr. Paine ineant to write Circean. 

p. 32. 1. 22. 
Where crags menace defiance to the skij. 
If examples were wanting, the sweetness of the Avord, as 
thus accented, might excuse the poet for removing the accent, 
from the first to the last syllable of raenace. 



436 NOTES TO THE 

p. 83, 1. 11. 

'Tivas his to ivander mid tenebrious wilds. 
Mr. Paine remembered Tasso's enchanted grove. 

p. 34, 1. 6. 
Where boiling quicksands rave ivith maddening foam. 

Virgil, like his own jEoIus, was fond of embroiling the 
elements. 

Cavum conversa cusj^lde montem, 

linpulit in latus. 

Mr. Paine has done little more, than turn the following lines 
into English : 

Insequitur cumulo praeruptus aquze mons ; 

Hi summo in fluctu pendent : liis unda dehiscens. 

Ten-am intei- fluctus aperit. Fui-it sestus arenis, 1 JEn : 105 sqq. 

ON SENSIBILITY, 
p. 40, 1. 13. 
Which ivants that nervous vigour to acquire. 
The construction of this line, beside that it does not convey 
the author's meaning, is abhorrent from every idiom of the 
language, 

A PASTORAL. 

p. 42, 1. 6. 
.4nd early linnets hail the fiurjile spring. 
Purfile spring is from Virgil : ver purfiureum, Moeris v. 40. 
Purple, perhaps, more in its secondary ,than in its primary sense, 
is dear to the poets. Gray has the fiurjile light of love^ which, 
notwithstanding the Greek from Athenseus, he cei'tainly took 
from the ^neis v. 1,591 sq. Phrynicus had, probably, the 
same place in his eye. Virgil, as he was not too squeamish 
to borrow from others, is sometimes indebted to himself. 
Aristseus, about to consult Proteus, is invested by Cyrene with 
more than human qualities. 

Usee ait, et liquidum ambrosix diffundit odorem. 

Quo totum nati corpus perduxit ; at illi 

Dulcis compositis spiravit crinibus aura, 

Atque habilis membris venit vigor. IVGeorg. 415 sqq. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 437 

These verses, somewhat heightened, are, in the first jEneis, 
divided between Venus and her son. The decoram ccesariem 
of^e hero, is not, indeed, like the shepherd's compositis crin- 
ibus ; it rather resembles the purfiureum crinein or capillum of 
Nisus, to whose fatal lock a Greek poet does not scruple to 
apply aS-avuerss, to mark, I suppose, its uncommon beauty. 

In a verse, which expresses the rapidity of the Po, by the 
brisk and voluble dactyls, of which it is composed, Virgil calls 
the sea purple. 
In mai-e purpureum (jion) violentior effluit amnis. IV. Georg. o7o. 

An intense white, such as a swan's plumage or virgin snow, 
exposed to a bright, sun tlirows back a reflection, which, as it 
dazzles the eye, seems to give a slight tinge of purple to the 
snow or plumage. Hence Horace's Jiurfile amans and the 
fiurjile snonv of Albinovanus. Pei'haps the Adriatick in a 
clear day may, instead of blue, appear purple to a distant 
spectator, as to one more distant it would appear black. 

p. 42, 1. 22. 
And toiling bees explore the Jiagi'ant rose. 

For flagrant read fragrant. This distich is imitated from 
Virgil. 

p. 44, 1. 11. 

Elegiack ditties chant o'er Sfiring's sad urn. 

Of the word elegiack the accent reposes, not on the second, 
but on the third syllable. 

FORENSICK DISPUTATION. 

p.4r, 1. 1,2. 

When Keivton rose, sublimely great, from earth, 
And boldly spoke tvhole systems into birth. 

Pope's Epitaph on him, who, as he never uttered the name 
of God, without pausing, as in devotion, would have shud- 
dered at the irreverent parody inscribed on his monument, is 
clumsily disguised in this distich. 



438 NOTES TO THE 

PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 

p. 47, 1. 24, 25. 

Her laivs, unchanged by Timers insidious jioiver, 
Unra-vel centuries or revolve an hour. 

The same, or a similar thought, much more elegantly 
displayed, presents itself in a song, which for simple and 
delicate touches is unequalled. Rogers's verses however 
were not published, when this poem was written. 

p.48, 1. 16. 

Put in her sickle for one " sheaf" of fame. 

Here, I suspect, the author cannot be acquitted of a childish 
paranomasia. 

p. 49, I. 9. 

As high as heaven its azure arch sustains. 

This and the thirteen succeeding lines are marked by great 
vigour of conception. 

p. 50, 1, 5, 6, 

To teach the rafiid 7nome?itSt as they fiij^ 
Beyond the utmost ken of mortal eye. 

This couplet is transplanted from Mr. Paine's " Preface," to 
the College Exercises. 

p. 51,1. 13, 14. 

The rising m.anners of an infant state 
Will be the parent of its future fate. 

These lines are big with political wisdom. 

p. 51, 1. 25. 

These ar?n nvith strength., or shrink the trembling nei've. 

This and the correspodent line might be easily reduced 
to sense and grammar, I feel little doubt, that upon revision 
Mr. Paine would have thus altered the couplet : 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 439 

ThisXvirtue) arms with strength, that {vice) shrinks the trembling nerves, 
That taints the blood, and this its health preserves. 

Or, 

One fires the system, one its tone preserves. 

p. 53, 1. 19. 
Tygers no more a savage nature claim. 
A flat and feeble echo of one of Pope's feeblest and flattest 
lines. 

p. 53, 1. 22. 

Seemed a civilian to the m.onstersi vien. 
Civilian is, I believe, never used as the opposite of barbarian. 
^ I know not whether the word has ever relaxed from its tech- 
nical meaning. 

p. 54, 1. 

Stisfiicion, Cruelty., Revenge resort. 

There is something in Claudian i7i Riif: lib. i. not unlike 
this privy council. 

p. 56, 1. 3. 
The tear descended from the world above. 
This and the five next lines are a well known passage of 
Tristram Shandy, done into verse. Sterne, perhaps, is not 
safe fyora the charge of affectation. 

p. 58, 1. 14. 
Liclcment Sirius, and the rugged soil. 
I am afraid that Custom has confined incle7nent to cold, 
and that it cannot now be applied indifferently to cold and 
heat. 

VALEDICTORY POEM. 

(For 1791, read 1792) 
The solemnity, Avhich produced this poem, is extremely 
interesting ; and, being of ancient date, it is to be hoped, that 
it may never fall into disuse. His affection for the University 
Mr. Paine cherished, as one of his most sacred principles. He 
constantly attended the annual commencement, and never 



440 NOTES TO THE 

failed to contribute his full contingent to the elegant liilarity 
of that festival. Of this poem Mr. Paine always spoke, as one 
of his happiest efforts. Coming from so young a man, it is 
certainly very creditable, and promises more, I fear, than the 
untowai-d circumstances of his after life would permit him to 
perform. 

The four first lines are imitated from Ovid, not very dis- 
tinctly remembered ; and the last couplet i-eminds one of the 
parting interview between Johnson and Savage, as described 
by the former, in his imitation of Juvenal's third Satire. 

p. 60, 1. 25. 

Smile time along^ isfc. 

Though it wants both authority and analogy, yet this phrase, 
which Mr. Paine uses more than once, is poetical. 

p.61,1. 1. 
Hail, winding Charles, is^c. 

The Charles, as here addressed, is but Sir John Denham's 
Thames, compelled to steal through the salt marshes of Cam- 
bridge, instead of straying through ivanton -vallies, to the 
Ocean. 

p. 66, 1. 9. 

While transjwrt glistens from the falling tear. 

The same concetto is repeated in Mr. Paine's communica- 
tion on the Temale Asylum. 

p. 67, 1. 15. 
While gaily sparkling from the realms of night. 

From the "bard." 

Fair laughs the mom, &c. 

Gray's allegory in the verses, to which I allude, is very 
noble. Mr. Paine here resumes the imagery of the opening- 
paragraph. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 441 

PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 

Whether it proceeds from the fertility of the subject, or the 
poverty of our language, which, though enriched, beside its 
accessions from modern tongues, by no niggardly infusion 
of the Latin and Greek, may still be inadequate to the praise 
of that blessing, withoiit which every other species of external 
prosperity is worthless and insipid ; whatever be the cause, it 
is unquestionably true, that of the English poets, not excepting 
Blackmore and Thomson, each of whom has written an elabo- 
rate poem on Liberty, none has left us a panegyrick such, as 
the first and noblest attribute of civil life deserves. Cowper's 
Task contains a few good lines about Liberty ; and, as if some 
seraph was breathing his soul through the strings, there occa- 
sionally swells from the harp of Milton such symphonies, as 
might almost start the shade of Brutus. Nor does Akenside, 
in his great poem, which, together with his hymn to the Nai- 
ades, has ensured him an undying fame, forget the last of the 
Romans,nor the cause in which Brutus was willing, for the gen- 
eral good to become the priest of patriotism, that by his own 
hands he might offer up one of his best friends, as an atoning 
sacrifice to the Commonwealth. 

p. 72, 1. 25, 26. 

One murder marks the assassin's odious name. 

From the late Bishop of London's Seatonian prize poem on 
Death. 

p.74, 1. 10. 

jind called a Mayhew to religion's aid. 

Dr. Mayhew is still remembered, not only as a subtle and 
dextrous controveitist, but as a gentleman of great openness 
and urbanity. His sermons discover a mind of no ordinary 
vigour : and his learning was such, as few of his contempora- 
ries could boast. Dr. Mayhew, without doubt, did much 
toward awakening that spirit of frank and fearless enquiry, for 
which the clergy of the metropolis are justly celebrated. That 
he had no coadjutors however must not be supposed. Men, 
56 



442 NOTES TO THE 

of a Catholicism not less ingenuous than his, were at the same 
time busy in different parts of New England, in attempting to 
redeem the people of their respective cures fi'om a bigotry, 
infinitely more mischievous, than the Archiepiscopal tyranny, 
as they called it, to escape which their ancestors were content to 
leave their native land, and wander, they kncAV not whither, in 
search of religious liberty. To this cooperation it is owing that 
so much elegant erudition has found the way to the pulpit ; and 
hence too it is, that so many of our clergy are equally eminent 
as scholars, and exemplary as christians. 

p. 76,Lr. 
Hail.) sacred Liberty ., divinely fair. 

When this poem was delivered it was generally thought 
that the French Revolution was what Mr. Fox, in the effer- 
vescence of his feelings, emphatically termed it, the most stu^ 
fiendous monument ever erected by man to Liberty. 

This opinion however, from being embraced by all, soon be- 
came confined to a few ; and the excesses of the different fac- 
tions, as they supplanted one another, in a short time disen- 
chanted even Mr. Fox of his faiiy visions, and convinced him 
that the revolution was nothing more or better than a scramble 
among the people, divided into parties, having adverse views 
and interests, for place and power. Such indeed, as knew the 
tendency of all civil coinraotions, did not wait till Louis was 
uncrowned or beheaded. Before either of those events many 
saw the issue of the struggle, and predicted, that this fierce 
spirit of liberty would soon foam itself mad, and be cried and 
hunted down by some aspirer to the throne, as the most dan- 
gerous of all evils. Such has been the result. He, who now 
controls France, and through France, almost every other na- 
tion under heaven, has vaulted into the seat of the Bourbons, 
over the yet panting remains of freedom ; and his diadem, 
which owes all its lustre to the light, as it glitters in a blasting 
reflection from his invincible sword, is sometimes darkened to 
a fearful dimness by the steams of unexpiated blood ; of blood 
spilt by the Usurper, to give a deeper dye and a livelier gloss 
to the imperial purple. 



COLLEGE EXERCISES. 443 

p. 76,1. 21. 

Week with despair^ slow tottering with toil. 

A happier instance of imitative harmony it would be diffi- 
cult to adduce. The preceding couplet teems with a pair 
of sturdy Hybernicisms. 

p. 77, 1. 9. 

Long may the laurel to the ermine yield. 

This line is a translation of Cicero's celebrated verse. 
Though the Roman orator, in comparison with Virgil, was but 
a sorry poet, I cannot help thinking that his translations, par- 
ticularly some passages in his translation of Sophocles's 
Trachiniae, so far as he translated that noble tragedy, are at 
least as good, as any of Mr, Fox's verses. 

A PASTORAL. 

Our language, though poor in Pastorals, can boast of one, 
divided, like this, into Morning, Noon and Evening, which has 
seldom been equalled. Cunningham's day is rich in rural 
scenery. His colours are of the ten de rest delicacy, and eveiy 
object is touched from nature. 

p. 78, 1. 9. 

The mor7i, with }iearly feet advancing., leads 

Xow morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl. Milton. 

p. 79. 1. 15. sqq. 

JSfow the fierce coursers of the sultry day. 

In this and the five following lines one may trace Ovid, 
Claudian and the Epitaphium Damonis as well, as Virgil, 
How suffocating is the heat described in these verses. 

Jum rapidus torrens sitientes Sirius Indos 
Ardebat ; cceIo et medium sol igneus orbem 
Hauserat : arebant herbse, et cava flumina siccis 
Faucibus ad limum radii tepefacta coquebant. 



444 NOTES TO THE COLLEGE EXERCISES. 

p. 80, 1. 18. 
And slQtv in solemn brown brings on the even. 

From Addison. The first lines of Cato are perhaps the 
greatest effort of his muse. Mr. Paine was never very 
careful to avoid the opening of vowels on each other. There 
is none of his poems,that is not deformed by the Hiatus. 

p. 81, 1. 11, sqq. 
A nightingale, nvho^from a neighbouring spray. 

These verses contain in a compressed form a translation of 
Strada's nightingale. 

p. 86, 1.27". 

From his keen eyes the livid lightnings dart. 

The sense requires the substitution of vivid for livid. The 
fire of that mind, which fulmined over Greece, was far from a 
pale and sickly flash. Demosthenes, as he took Pericles for 
his model, may certainly share in the praises, lavished on his 
great exemplar. Dr. Parr applies the verse, to which I allude, 
and which Milton seems to have done little more than amplify 
in the Paradise Regained, to Mr. Fox. 

p. 99, 1. 3. 
Philenia sings, and sings the soldier's toil. 
Mr. Paine alludes to Mrs. Morton's Beacon Hill, the first 
canto of which, was then lately published. It is to be regretted, 
that the poem, if finished, is still kept from the press. 

p. 100, 1. 17. 

When that warm tongue, from which such musick Jiows. 

Instead of tongue, Mr. Paine, it is said, proposed to substi- 
tute lifi. The substitution certainly betters the compliment j 
but I know not whether warm lip. is not rather too luscious. 



NOTES 



TO THE 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 



EDWIN AND EMMA. 

p. 115, 1. 5 sq. 
Ingeyiuous Edtvin ! ivhom fiale Envy's Jrowriy 
For thee half-brightened to a smile^ applauds. 

This figure, though it may not answer all the requisitions 
of criticisna, conveys the author's meaning with uncommon 
felicity. 

p. 116, Isqq. 
Whatever in Lo-ue's bright landscape charmed your vie'ii), 
This Stanza is not less delicate than elegant. 

p. 116, 1. 24. 
./ind wish, that wedlock was no sin in heaven, 

Matrimony by the place of the Scripture, to which Mr. 
Paine alludes, is not declared a sin. The Saviour does not 
say, that marriage in heaven would be unlawful ; he says 
merely that, to the blessed, being made like the angels of Gody 
marriage is unnecessary. It is not prohibited by penalties, 
as an offence ; it is barely described as superseded by a 
nobler communion, of which marriage is but a gross 5ind im- 
perfect symbol. The preceding stanza is finely touched. 
The evening star is stayed, while Venus smiles on the nuptial 
rites, and by her smile consecrates the genial couch to a large 
and liappy issue. If this epithalamium commemorates a real 
wedding, the goddess did not smile in vain. 



446 NOTES TO THE 

MONODY ON W. H. BROWN. 

Of this monody there is something like concetto in the two 
first stanzas ; but it is soon dropped, or rather lost in the poet's 
feelings ; for the piece seems to have flowed almost without 
premeditation from his full arid querulous sorrow. The transi- 
tion, by the first line of the third stanza, is full of pathos ; of 
that tenderness, which sobs in the very movement of the mea- 
sure ; the three other lines are something more than pretty. 

p. 119,1. 17. 
Ithaca's queen^ his comick liencil drenv. 
This line is extremely awkward, and moves as Penelope 
would have hobbled on pattens ; the last line of this stanza, 
except that it describes the demeanour of a Pagan princess by a 
custom, peculiar to some christian countries, is at once tender 
and lofty. 

p. 120,1. 17. 
Felt ye the gale F It was the Sh-ock blast. 
One of Mason's choral odes suggested this abrupt and 
startling question. 

p. 121, 1,26. 
To hold fiure converse ivith the babbling brook. 
So in the verses to Brattle : 

And man grew social with the babbling bi'ook. 
Babbling brook is from Shakespeare. 

p. 122, 1.28. 
But ivho has sketched the fragrance of the rose ? 
Mr. Paine remembered the Greek epigram. 

p. 124, 

The Stanzas to Mr. Brattle, though somewhat extravagant, 
are very pleasing. The last quatrain, particularly the second 
line, is imagined in the true spirit of encomiastick poetry. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 447 

p. 127, 1. 1 sqq. 
Thou injured maid, to gain ivhose secret name. 
This, and the three next lines are striking. Arrected ears, is 
word for word from Virgil, auribus arrectis. The ivhispering 
gallery of fame, thovigh savouring somewhat of Cowley, is a 
happy thought. The ivatch tower of the ivinds, Mr. Paine 
owes to his recollection of the Octagon tower of Andronicus 
Cyrrhestes, of which Vitruvius takes notice, and to which 
Stuart assigns his third chapter of the Antiquities of Athens. 
It is now a Turkish chapel, called the Teckeh. The channels 
in the pavement, Stuart supposes to be the remains of a 
water dial. His margin refers us to Suidas, Pausanias, Aris- 
tophanes, Plutarch, Hesychius and Pliny. Stuart confesses 
that Vitruvius's silence is unfavourable to his conjecture ; 
but then Vitruvius, he observes, is silent also as to the sun 
dials about the building, which were there, in his time, as ap- 
pears from Varro, who calls the tower, the Horologium of 
Cyrrhestes. Horologium, he adds, signifies not only a sun 
<lial but a water dial. He also adds, that a sun dial and a 
water dial, were placed together in the baths of Hippias, which 
Lucian has described, and that it appears probable from Pliny, 
that both those species of dials were in the Roman Forum. 

p.sr, 1. 22. 
In voice a Circe, and in jioison too. 

This line Mr. Paine afterwards employed in tlie Invention 
of Letters. 

SONNET TO PHILENIA, 8cC. 

This sonnet, notwithstanding the uncouth union of mercan- 
tile phraseology with gallantry and rhyme, is marked by some 
fine strains. The twelfth and thirteenth lines are eminently 
beautiful. From the sincere admiration entertained by Mr. 
Paine for the lady, to whom some of his best verses are ad- 
dressed, he seldom failed to derive inspiration. 

p. 140, 1.20. 
When prudish Sanctity congeals the soul. 
This verse I suspect is far from being universally true. 
Eloisas are still found in convents. 



448 SrOTES TO THE 

p. 141, 1. 8. 

And fondly lOoos the ramboiV'inantled Da7ne. 

Milton in his Christmas Hymn xv. says 

Truth and justice then 

Will down return to men, 

Orb'd in a rainbow, and like glories wearing 

Mercy will sit between, &c. 

Such is the reading of the edition of 1 673 ; in the edition of 
1645 it stood thus 

Th' enamell'd arras of the rainbow wearlngo 

p. 142,1,8. 

iVhere^er she visits^ Spring Jlorescent reigns. 
Florescent bears Mr. Paine's die : it does not want analogy. 

p. 42, 1. 10. 
She moves-^the Goddess by her gait is known. 

vera incessu patuit Dea. Vir^l 1, ^n. 405. 

Vera Dea is a phrase, worthy of notice ; instead of strength- 
ening, it weakens the impression. 

p. 143, 1. 12. 

Would trust so base an applicant a stiver^ 

. Applicant is an ai-rant Americanism. Mr. Paine was not even 
scrupulous, although an author, who writes with the hope of 
outliving his tomb, should be fastidious in the choice of his 
words. He should never forget the only maxim, which has 
come down to us, of Caesar's book on Analogy. 

p. 143, 1.23. 

And drag the limping legs of Rhyme., slow, lin-ge-riiig out, 

The whole stanza is well turned ; but this line is remarkably 
apt ; the alliteration helps to impede its motion. With too 
much bitterness there is blended in this piece no inconsiderable 
portion of legitimate satire. 



MISCELLAISTEOUS POEMS. 449 

p. 145, 1. 1. 
Though all my "/zzi^s" not one recruiter drew. 

jRecruite?; if it were an English word, would not mean a 
ne7v soldier, but the recruiting officer. It is painful to find so 
many, (I have noted but few) unauthorised words in the works 
of a man, whose reading, though desultory and capricious, 
was certainly various and extensive. Bvit this various and 
extensive reading vitiated his style. Except Shakespeare and 
Dryden, thei'e was scarcely an English poet, whom Mr. Paine 
cared to own. Of Milton he was not indeed shamelessly ignor- 
ant ; but his acquaintance with the Paradise Lost was by 
no means such, as one might have expected. With Pope's 
splendour and sweetness he was without doubt deeply 
impressed, but he seldom imitates his delicious melody or the 
calm and equable cm'rent of sound sense, which flow^s through 
every page of that fine poet and moralist. 

Mr. Paine was eager for American publications ; and some 
times, I fear, suffered even Dryden and Shakespeare to be 
jostled out of his mind Ijy the strenuous and Avell-compacted 
dulness of a certain diplomatick poet ; the name of whose 
burly quarto is now not unaptly given to the heaviest and 
most unwieldy species of ordnance. 

p. 147, 1. 5. sqq. 

T'U)0 rival Zephyrs, knights of air. 

The Rosicrucian system, as developed by Pope, in the fairest 
issue of his fancy, probably gave the author this idea. 

PRIZE PROLOGUE. 

Having during his last years subjected this poem to a severe 
revision, it will be found that Mr. Paine, besides enlarging it, 
has bestowed on the Prize Prologue, as here printed, more 
than his usual care. None indeed of his productions appears 
to have shared so largely in his affection ; and his manuscripts 
shew that every verse, of the additions at least, was tlie fruit 
of the most patient and laborious diligence. A few of the 
various readings I shall be excused for exhibiting. 
57 



450 NOTES TO THE 

p. 152, 1. 25, 26, 

Aow, Timers grey eve, serene nvith lingering day, 
Sheds o'er thy wrecks his sad, sefiulchral ray. 

After this couplet, which, though a little incongruous, is 
exact enough to awaken a still and sacred melancholy, such 
as the view of modern Athens cannot but excite in every polite 
scholar, Mr. Paine had inserted this distich ; 

With lig'ht's last tinge religion's shadows fly 
And lorn thy Genius roams the flickering sky. 

Dr. Johnson's remarks on the tragedy of Macbeth, furnished 
the hint of the first line. Flickering can hardly be wrested to 
the use, here made of it. 

p. 152, 1.28. 
Choaked with thy gods, thy -vexed Pyraeus roars. 

The Piraeus (for so it should have been spelt) was the har- 
bour of Athens. Mr. Paine is indebted to Pope ; 

Streets pav'd with statues, Tyber choak'd with gods. 

As applied to a river, the metaphor is happy : it does not 
however accomodate itself with equal felicity to a Basin* 
Pope remembered Virgil. 

gemei'ent que repleti 

Amnes, nee reperire viam atque eyolvere posset 
li\ mare se Zanthus. 

p. 153,1. 4. 
And hermit Silence nvorshijis there alone. 
This line, as first written, stood thus, 

And brooding silence worships there alone. 

Brooding was succeeded by barbarous ; barbarous gave way 
to pious, and pious at last resigned its place to hermit. 

Hermit silence reminds one of Collins, and savours of his 
best inanner. It may here be remarked that the epistle to 
Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his edition of Shakespeare, was familiar 
to Mr. Paine, and he has not hesitated to avail himself of those 
charming verses. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 451 

The whole passage, of which the line at the head of this note 
makes a part, is highly poetical. It is hardly possible to read 
it, without feeling that sort of delight, which is the more rav- 
ishing, for being mingled and chastised by a mild and pensive 
melancholy. 

p. 153, 1.14. 

Sits black Des/iair, while pagan Wonder reigns, 
With this line Mr. Paine could not easily satisfy himself, 
I find it in these different foi'ms. It first stood thus : 

Dumb Wonder sits and blank Oblivion reigns. 
It was then altered to 

Dumb Ruin sits and pagan Wonder reigns. 



then to 
then to 
then to 



Dumb Slumber sits and pagan Wonder reigns. 
In brooding Silence pagan Wonder reigns. 



Mute Ruin sits and barbarous Wonder reigns. 
then the couplet was new modelled thus : 

O'er thy proud cenotaphs and gorgeous domes, 
Dumb Ruin sits and pagan Wonder roams. 

at last, however, the second line took its present form. 
p.l53, 1. 27. 
Could gently touch the film, that made thee blind.. 
Pope's Sacred Pastoral was in Mr. Paine's mind. After 
making all due allowances for the fervour of a youthful fancy, 
this line, I fear, is indefensible. Mr. Paine cannot shelter 
himself behind the authority of Drydcn. That great poet, as 
he struggled into notice during the Usurpation, Avas obliged 
to worry himself forward by canting, (such was the folly of 
the day,) in a strain, sometimes little short of open blasphemy, 
and always bordering on careless irl'everence. Pope, for the 
like offence, has not escaped without reproof. Dr. Johnson 
dismisses the critick, and becomes a moral censor, when he 
says, " that it is a mode of merriment, which a good man 
dreads for its profaneness, and a witty man disdains for its 
easiness and vulgarity." 



452 :^OTES TO THE 

p.l54, 1. 21. 

In vain thy Epick heroes wake with rage. 

The antitheses, if they may be so called, of which this par* 
agraph consists, are awkwardly managed. 

p.l55, 1. 7. 
Dear wild of Genius ! o'er thy raouldering scene. 

This line was first written 

Wild -waste of Genius, o'er thy mouldering scene. 

It is hardly to be pardoned, that Mr. Paine did not, before 
he past to Rome, attempt an analysis of the respective charac- 
ters of the tragick triumvirate of Athens, and the authors of 
the old and new comedy. Brumoy might easily have supplied 
the materials. The dramatick poets of Rome ought not to have- 
been forgotten. France too, as well as England, has contrib- 
uted some fine pieces to the stage ; but although it is known 
that he intended to introduce the English dramatists, Mr. 
Paine seems never to have suspected that his prologue, instead 
of being more, would be less complete, if admitting Shakes- 
peare, and Johnson, and Dryden, he neglected Coniielle, 
and Racine, and Moliere,and Terence, and Plautus,and Seneca, 
and Euripedes, and Sophocles, and ^schylus, together with 
Aristophanes, and Menander, and other comick poets, who are 
known to us only by their imitators, 

p.l51, 1. 11. sq. 

Augustan Rome^ with sad, firofthetick eye^ 
Seheld her em f lire circle round the sky. 

Thus written in one of the M. S. S. ; 

Kome o'er the g-lobe beheld her pennons flj'. 
Yet saw her realm expand with trembling eye. 

The last line is altered, having stood thus : 

Yet saw her empire spread with trembling eye. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 453 

p.l56, 1.9. 
The Globe's proud butcher grew humanehj brave. 
It cannot be questioned that, while Mr. Paine was writing 
this line, one of Pope's verses in the prologue to Cato, was 
humming in his ears : 

The World's great victor past unheeded by. 

p. 156, 1. 25. sqq. 

77ms set the sun of intellectual light. 

It is difficult to say, which has contributed more to this 
description, Ovid or Moses. After the last line of this para- 
graph, one copy contains these lines : 

But still reluctant sunk the Torrent's rage. 
The alluvion chilled, and darkness veiled the age ; 
No genial beam could penetrate the cloud. 
Which mantled Science in a solemn shroud ; 
While big-ot Folly, weak, morose, and blind, 
Stalked through the vapour and dismayed the mind ; 
The shapeless monster struck fantastick awe. 
For darlmess magnified what Ten-our saw ; 

Bacon alone 

Flushed and went out, and all was dark again. 

p.157,1.15. 

But^ hark ! her mighty rival sweeps the strings ; 
Sweet Avon, Jiow not '. 'tis thy Shakespeare si?igs ! 
One copy presents this distich in another shape : 
Roused from tlieir trance the slumbering muses start. 
And see ! the sullen shades in tliunders part ! 
Hark from the clouds some Ariel sweeps the strings ! 
Sweet Avon, flow not, 'tis thy Shakespeare sings. 

p.l57, 1. 28. 
When Garrick sighed the Muse his last adieu. 
Davies, m his life of that unrivalled actor, speaks of Gar- 
rick, taking his leave of the stage, and tells us of the effect 
produced by that ceremony on the house. Mr. Paine was 
certainly fond of a Book, to which Johnson is thought to have, 
given the finishing hand. 



454 NOTES TO THE 

p. 157, 1.30. 
When Siddons looks a nation iiito tears. 
Never was that mistress of mimetick passion honoured by 
a nobler compliment. The correspondent line is altogether 
unworthy of the subject. Collins in his ode to Mercy, makes 
these lines a part of the antistrophe : 

Thy form, from out thy sweet abode, 
O'ertook him on his blasted road. 
And stopped his wheels and looked his rage away. 
I see recoil his sable steeds. 
That bore him swift to savag-e deeds ; 
Thy tender-melting eyes they own 

Collins, I have little doubt, was thinking, when he wrote these 
tines, of Claudian's simile in his Magnes : 

Sic Venus horrificum belli compescere Regem 

Et vultu moUire solet ; cum sanguine praeceps 

^stuat, et strictis mucronibus asperat iras. 

Sola feris occurrit equis, solvitque tumorem 

Pectoris, et blando prxcordia temperat igni. 

Pax animo tranquilla datur ; pugnasque calentes 

Ueserit, et rutilas declinat in oscula cristas. 

p.l58, 1.12. 
Peace rolls luxurious in her dove-drawn car. 
Collins, as he furnishes War with vultures, represents Peace 
as drawn by turtles. Sparrotvs, according to Sappho, and 
sivans, if we may believe Hoi^ace, are joined to the car of 
Venus. 

p.l58, 1. 22. 
jin angel wanders in a fiilgrim's guise. 
Here is another allusion to the Scripture ; considering the 
purpose, to which it is made subservient, it can hardly be 
excused. 

p. 160, 1. 3. 
ji Terence rise, in chariest char7ns serene. 
-Chary is a word so rarely used, that it requires explanation. 
It means, as explained by Johnson, careful, cautious, i^c^ 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 455 

Beside Carew, whose authority is of little weight, the Diction- 
ary contains a quotation from Shakespeare : 

" the chariest maid is pi-odigal enough 

If she unmask her beauty to the moon." 

p. 164,1.3. 

With rising sun, the swain his course reneived. 

The article might have found its place in this line, if, instead 

of rising, Mr. Paine had wiitten new ; With the new sun. To 

this alteration the last word of the line is far from being an 

objection. 

p. 164, 1.26. 

Who value lore, as antiquaries rust. 
Altered from the first edition, which stood thus, 
Who value science only for its rust. 
Popes verses to Addison, occasioned by his delightful dialogue 
on medals, begot this line. Pope speaks of certain antiquita- 
tians, (such persons are so called by a great master of English 
eloquence, to distinguish them from antiquaries, whose pur- 
suits are by no means such, as to warrant any other language 
than that of sincere respect,) who cared little for the inscrip- 
tion, if it were to be recovered by disturbing the fireciou^ 
arugo. They, he says, 

Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. 

p. 165, 1.5. 

The barbarous Rhine now blends its classick name. 

In the first edition the four following lines concluded this 
paragraph. 

In morn of modern days, a brighter name. 

The world's great genius has eclipsed your fame ! 

Sovereign of art, inventions noblest son. 

He claims the bays, which every Art has won. 

p. 165, 1. 15. sqq. 

Egyptian shrubs, in hands of cook or Jiriest. 

These four lines are debased by an attempt at unseasonable 
%vit. 



456 KOTE TO THE 

p. 165, 1. 19. sqq. 
The ancient scribe^ employed by bards divine. 

Alliteration is seldom more adroitly managed, than in the 
three succeeding lines. 

p. 165, 1.28. 
The fiinioned volume sfireads to all mankind. 
Pinioned is an equivoque. Winged had been better. Milton, 
it is remarkable, uses ivinged as two syllables and as one in 
the same line. Perhaps Mr. Paine was thinking of Homer's 

p. 166, 1. 12. 
The world who butchered^ or the world who taught. 
Of this construction young poets are ready to avail them- 
selves ; it may be doubted whether it conforms to any English 
idiom. 

p. 166, 1. 14. 

To burst the cearments of each buried age. 

From Hamlet's address to his father's ghost. The figure is 
supported in the following lines with great spirit. The sun- 
less and trophied sepulchi'e of time is an awful image. 

p.l67, 1.14. 
Mre fettered Type from dread Bastile was led. 
This personification, to say nothing of it, as suggesting at 
once the idea of some swart and shrivelled pressman, just 
escaped from the jail to which his libellous paper had sent 
him, is extremely hard. It had been Irss objectionable, if the 
prosody would have admitted the article, which, although its 
omission in easy and doggerel verse, is always indulged and 
sometimes demanded, can never be spared from the higher 
forms of English harmony. 

p,16r, 1. 23. 

In vain di Gama traced the orient way. 

This, and the five succeeding lines, are added since the first 
edition. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 4ST 

168,1.20. 

Green be the tombs tvhere sleep, her fiatriot hosts. 

Altered from the first edition, where it has this form : 
Long bloom the meed of her enlightened hosts. 

p.l69, 1.1. 
What though no wave Pactolian laves her shore. 
Here is Sir John Denham's Thames again. After the next 
line, the first edition closes this paragraph with, 

Yet she has mines, which need no rod to trace ; 
Search not her bosom, but survey her face. 

These lines are not lost, however ; they are wrought into 
the new verses, which follow. 

p.170, 1.12. , 

And kills the oak, whose leaf it could not start. 

So in his Ode for 4th July, 1806 : 

For oft a worm destroys an oak. 
Whose leaf that worm would bury. 

And again, in his Ode for the same festival, 1811 : 

Base submission inviting indignity and plunder. 

Like a worm, kills an oak, which should have braved the thunder. 

p.170, 1.24. 
The sun, that warms a monkey, breeds ajiy. 
From Pope : 

The fur, that warms a monarch, wanned a beai", 

p.l73, 1.12. 
And the vast alcove of Creation blaze. 

The conclusion of Campbell's Pleasures of Hope somewhat 
resembles the closing lines of this poem. Milton's JYatura 
non fiati senium winds off with these lines : 

Sic denique in sevum 

Ibit cunctarum series justissima rerum ; 
Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, late 
Circumplexa polos, et vasti culmina caeli ; 
Tngentique rogo flagi'abit machina mundi- 
It is not among the weakest proofs of his greatness, that the 
meretricious rhetorick, which has so often wreathed itself about 
58 



458 NOTES TO THE 

his fame, and fondled on his memory with a drivelling tender- 
ness, has never brought into suspicion the virtues or talents 
of General Washington. Notwithstanding the stale and vapid 
libations, which are yearly poured out at his tomb, his shield 
is still bright and unsullied ; the vapours sent up by those 
thankless sacrifices dare not settle on its orb. 

p.l77, 1.8. sq. 
Which guides a comet.) while it moulds a tear. 
Here is another imitation of Rogers's fine verses. 

p.l78, 1.16. 

A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts. 
A tame and slovenly line. 

p.ir9, 1.10. 

Cobivebbed around nvith many a mouldy lie. 
Into this verse are compressed four lines of the Invention 

of Letters : 

In yon drear garret. Faction's dai'k recess. 
Her nightly daemons load the groaning press. 
With cobwebs hung, she rubs her sleepless eyes. 
While Norfolk spiders weave her half spun lies. 

p. 1 79, 1.15. 

All join to shift Life's ver si-coloured scenes. 

Johnson's many-coloured, in his Drury-lane prologue, had, 

been much better than vei^si-coloured, which is not analogically 

compounded. 

p.l79, 1. 26. 

To nvield a snuff-box, or enact a sigh. 

There is much point in the phi'ase to enact a sigh.. 

p.180, 1.2. 
Grave, nvithout sense ; o' erflotoing, yet not full. 
Sir John Denham qnce more. 

pol80, 1. 4. 
Wrinkled in Latin, and in Greek fourscore. 
This line exemplifies one of the nicest idioms of the English 
language. It gives us Horace's insenuit libris et curis. in a ver^ 
terse, though somewhat liberal, version.. 



MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 459 

p. 82,1. 18. 
Let Fiction's brokers^ bards and tombstones^ tell. 
There is something very quaint in the coupling of tomb- 
stones and bards, and making them the broliers of fiction. 

p. 182, 1,25. 

The knee adoring^ and the stolen kiss. 

Stolen^ in verse should never loiter into two syllables. There 

is great spirit in this description of a belle of Plato's age. 

Nor did Mr. Paine's fervour forsake him, while describing the 

miser. 

p. 184, 1.28. 

Ai've gently murmurs^ and. the rough Rhone roars. 
Here is another good specimen of the sound echoing to 
the sense, especially in the last member of the sentence, the 
three last words of Avhicli begin with an asperated liquid, 
which is followed by the fullest of the vowels. 

p. 186, 1. 14. 
Sees all her frost-%vork castles melt away. 
Mr. Paine alludes to the Ice palace of the Russian empress, 
which affords, after a charming description, so melancholy a 
reflection to the pensive Cowper. 

p. 187,1.4. 
The sun of Glory shines but on the tomb. 
Pope, in his imitation of the epistle to Augustus, says. 

Those suns of Glory please not till they set. 
Gray, in his Elegy in the country church-yard, says 

The paths of Glory lead but to the tomb. 
From Gray and Pope, by nearly equal contributions, Mr. 
Paine levied this verse. Gray's is the last line of a stanza, 
•which Proffessor Cooke, late of Cambridge, according to an 
anonymous author of great celebrity, has rendered with won- 
derful felicity into Greek verses. 

p. 187, 1.10. 
The Hyblcan melody of Merry's taste. 
Of Hyblean the accent belongs to the penult ; but I do not 
detach this verse merely to correct the false quantity. The 



460 • NOTES TO THE 

Delia Cruscan melody is of a mawkish sweetness ; and in 
pomp and splendour Merry is much below Darwin, who, while 
he makes her more magnificent, gives to the muse of Merry 
a loftier air, and a voice of wider and more flexible compass. 
I know not whether Miss Sewai'd, however, did not confer 
more on Darwin, than he took from Merry. 

p. 189,1.1. 
Stern power of justice.^ whose uplifted hand. 
This and the four following lines are nobly -imagined. The 
four last lines are not unworthy of Dryden. 

p. 189, 1. 17. 

With prisoned force insurging JVeptune^s reign. 
Insurge is not English. Insurgent is hardly naturalized. 

p.190,1. 29. sq. 
Thy realm., maturing 'mid the feathery flighty 
Of ages., trackless as the plumes of light. 
A noble couplet. I doubt whether the volume contains two 
lines of equal excellence. 

p. 200,1.8. 

O'er aiticks' noses, snoring in the pit. 
From Shakespeare's description of the Fairy's Mid-wife. 

p. 203, 1. 1. sq. 
When cracked, like Rupert's drop, it mocks controul, 
Butler, I suspect, first employed this simile. It occurs 
somewhere in Hudibras. 

201,1.1. 

Crumped Vulcan deigned his Cyclop den to quit. 
The word, intended to be used, is an adjective crump, and 
not crumped with a participial termination. 

p. 202,1.12. 
jlnd nail him to the pillory of Fame. 
In the heat and hurry of composition, incongruities of such 
a kind as this line displays, will slip from the most accurate 
pen. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 461 

p. 203, 1. 8. 

Who grin like monkeys^ or like fygers ^ght. 

Such is the character of Frenchmen, as drawn more than 
half a century ago, by the Arch Theomachist. Mr. Paine in 
his oration before the young men of Boston, does not forget 
Voltaire's description of his countrymen. 

p. 203, 1. 22. 
And smoothed Delilah's lap for Sampson^ s head. 
Delilah, according to Milton, who was no unskilful Hebraist, 
has the accent on the antepenult. 

p. 204, 1. 4. 

jind snatched the -victim from, the apostate priest. 

Although the ceremonies, common to the whole heathen 
world, are strangely confounded with the sacrificial rites 
peculiar to the Jews, this imagery is magnificent ; it may, for 
aught I know, be more magnificent from the confusion, 
as it brings to the reader's recollection, perhaps, the finest 
scene of the Athenian stage. It is difficult to read the pas- 
sage, or even to recal it from the shadows that sport in the 
twilight of a faint and glimmering memory, without such 
tears as spring from admiration of the poet, blended with 
sympathy for his heroine. The lines are deep and fresh in 
the mind of every polite scholar. I shall not, therefore, trans- 
cribe any part of that scene, which for nature and passsion, 
even Shakespeai^e can hardly equal. Let it not be said, 
that I wantonly disparage that illustrious dramatist. I doubt 
whether his devoutest admirer, could approach the Avon with 
a worthier homage, than he presents, who ventui^es to doubt 
whether, in truth and pathos, Euripides be superiour to 
Shakespeare. 

p. 204, 1. 18. 
Rubs garlick in her eyes, and goes to church. 

Every line, except the fourth, of this paragraph is vigorous 
and piquant. Dryden is evidently imitated. 



462 NOTES TO THE 

p. 206, 1. 15. 
While teal's of rapture glitter on its leaves, 
A fine thought, expressed Avith feeling and elegance, 
p. 207, 1. 12. 
Jsfor rules by -verse the prosody of nvoe. 
Tickel's verses on Addison's death suggested this line, 
p. 207,1. 16. 
He speaks frovi nature, and he looks from soul. 
Soul and mind, and other words of similar import, Mr. Paine 
was always fond of employing in some dark andabstract sense. 
The habit grew upon him, as he advanced in life. 

EPILOGUE TO THE SOLDIER's DAUGHTER. 

Few of Mr. Paine's effusion's are more easy and joyous, 

than the Epilogue to the Soldier's Daughter. One of its 

couplets, except that a monosyllable in time is drawn out to 

a lazy dissyllable, is unusually felicitous. I allude to these lines, 

Those eyes, that even freemen could enslave. 

Will ligiit a race of vassds, to their grave. 

p. 215, 1.8. 

./I tocth-pick Epilogue should lounge the city. 
What is meant by a tooth-pick Epilogue it is hard to say. 
p. 214, 1.24. 
And every foundling bon mot knoivs papa. 
This is a pretty thought, prettily conveyed, 
p. 215,1. 13. sqq. 
" The love-sick cook-?naid lisps-— hist, Ro7neo, hist." 
Few poets can furnish finer lines than this paragraph con- 
tains. One of the lines, I am sory to find, v/eakened and dis- 
figured by an expletive, which for more than a century has not 
dared to intrude itself into the heroick measure. The next 
paragraph is delicate ; particularly the four last lines, which 
have all th« tenderness and simplicity of the dorick pastoral, 
p. 220, 1.25. 
To fiine a death-tvatch in a mise7-'s chest. 
Perhaps it would not be possible to inflict by poetry a heav- 
ier or more appropriate punishment, than to condemn the 
miser to do penance as a death-watch in his own empty coffers. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS". 463- 

p. 22 1,1. 23. sq. 

C-andid to censure.^ generous to commend. 

In these two lines Mr. Paine seems to have taken no pains 
to disguise the thought, or the phrase, or the rythm of Pope. 

EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 

The Epilogue to the Poor Lodger, which as well, as the 
Clergyman's Daughter, is one of our native plays, was spoken 
by Mrs. Darley,who speaks in the ten first lirjes, as from herself, 
to the audience. The gratitude of that interesting acti'ess 
cannot be more sincere, than the pleasure, which her perform- 
ance always excites. 

p. 230, 1. 4. 

That gallant form, which breathed a nation's mind. 

Such abstraction, as this line exemplifies, does not easily ally 
itself with poetry. 

p. 230, 1.6. 

But Victory writes his epitaph in tears. 

Though it wants distinctness and consistency, this thought is 
boldly personified. 

p. 231, 1.3. 
Jlnd o'er its cliffs to bid the barmer wave, 

David's picture of Buonaparte crossing the Alps might 
have occasioned this line. 

p. 231,1. 8. 

Where war had left no stone without a name. 

This line is an almost literal version of a line of the Phars- 
salia. 

p. 234, 1.14. 

Couched ambush listened in the deep morose. 
The lui'king place is not less luckily imagined, than the 
personification and posture of Ambush. 



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